


The Choice

by PrismHollow



Category: Draco/Hermione - Fandom, Dramione - Fandom, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blaise Zabini is a Good Friend, Bookish Hermione, Changes POV in chapters, Difficult Decisions, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Ginny Weasley is a Good Friend, Glimpse Into the Future, Hogwarts Sixth Year, Internal Monologue, Mean Malfoy, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Pansy Parkinson Bashing, Pressure, Protective Harry Potter, Protective Ron Weasley, Romance, Self-Loathing, Strong Hermione Granger, Work In Progress, dramione - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-01-23 18:17:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 103,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21324553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrismHollow/pseuds/PrismHollow
Summary: Hermione Granger is chosen to receive an award at school in which Malfoy must present. But what happens when the reward is a glimpse into Hermione's future and Malfoy is the one to see it. But he sees something he's not expecting and something that could change his plans.Originally a one-shot but now going to be a fully-fledged work. This is also posted on Fanficiton.net
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 155
Kudos: 323





	1. Chose wisely

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! :)  
So this is my first time using this website as I usually use Fanfiction.net to post my stories. But I decided to try it out and see. But if you prefer to read on fanfiction.net it is also available there. This was originally a one-shot I wrote almost 5 years ago and now I have some extra time to fully flesh out this idea. I really hope you like it. I will try to update regularly.
> 
> Thank you so much if you take the time to read this.  
Feedback is always welcome :)

There is a hum in the air, palpable. It swarms around us all and has done for the past few weeks. I am nervous, as is everyone else. I can practically taste the fear in the air. It is crisp and cold as Dumbledore enters the Great Hall. The tables feel oddly empty with just the 6th years in the hall but divided nonetheless as we still sit at our segregated table. Harry and Ron have spent most of last night fumbling over it, wondering whether they would be lucky enough to be picked and who might be picked alongside them to go forth. Ron, of course, was in his usual 'Harry gets picked for everything' mood, which I try to dismiss.

As for me, I didn't bother with the fuss. Of course, it crossed my mind but not too much. I sat in the library by myself all night finishing an assignment that was due next week. I had already finished it but it didn't help to look over it one last time. I also had to write out some 'notes' for Harry and Ron to help with their assignment too.

When I was younger my mother had gone to a fortune teller and spent quite a bit of money back then to see her but she hadn't told her much. My mother complained about it the whole car ride home, assuring me that it was just a farce. A mere trick of the eye or someone who was gifted with reading people. Of course, that was before I got my letter. My mother didn't mention it much after that.

Nevertheless, some of the girls in my dormitory had been up all night crying, wondering what their lives would be like and what they'd do if they were chosen and shown a horrible future. If they'd still be in a relationship with the guy they were with now. Lavender, unfortunately, daydreamed aloud about a happy future with Ron, boasting to Padma and Ceila that this year was going to be the year they started dating. It made me feel a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach. I wasn't sure whether it was because it was lavender – whom I didn't always see eye to eye with- or the fact that it was Ron. I didn't dwell on it.

Dumbledore stepped up to quieten the chatter with an extension of his arms.

"Settle, settle, I know you all must be anxious and curious and most of all tired! We had a lot of sleepwalkers found early this morning in the strangest of places," Dumbledore laughed letting his half-moon glasses slide down his nose so he could wink at Neville subtly. I nudge Ron as a snigger escaped. He blocked his face ashamed as Ginny glared at him.

"Ronald behave," I whisper.

"Regardless, I hope you are all excited. It is not often our school is rewarded with such a great honor as to be chosen for the Fanques Future Award. It is an honor of the highest I must say." Dumbledore smiled. But then his face turned a lighter shade of pale as he pushed his glasses back up his nose.

"I must express," he begins, eyeing the room packed with eager, nervous students. His voice grows serious.

"What one is told about their future is the future that person will receive if they change nothing about their lives and continue on the path which they're going. If one is to see a horrible outcome all they have to do is change. Life is never black or white but we often know which path we are choosing when we take it," he says, stopping. Letting his words fill the silent air. A few girls huff at one another, not enjoying the way in which Dumbledore is making this situation too serious. I can see them whispering behind their hands.

" In some cases, a certain person who might not be on the path of righteousness is chosen and will see a future they could have if they changed their ways. But this outcome is rare. Regardless, this is an opportunity for you to change your life. It is very often we live in the past, dwelling on mistakes and words left unsaid. Now is the time to look forward. Now is the time to see what you as a person will become. It's all very exciting," he finishes with a small smile.

"Minerva the bowl please." He beckons towards Professor McGonagall.

Professor McGonagall, with a flick of her wand, changed the large podium into a giant glass bowl designed to look like a tree, most likely to represent life and growth.

"Thank you'" he bowed.

"Now, two people from the chosen year of 6th year will be selected. One will be the receiver and one the giver." He says as I feel everyone lean forward in anticipation.

"The receiver will receive the highest honor of being given a glimpse into their future. The giver will be given a tiny vile in which they will bring to the Pensieve, view the receiver's future and then present the receiver with the news. Many well-known friendships have been based on this award between the giver and the receiver. We all know the story of David and Thomas Sheen, two acclaimed wizards. Thomas sheen saw in David's future his death by a terrible war to come. He then helped prevent it and a bond was born. Great things can come from this event, don't be so quick to gloat your news and forget who told you. Minerva if you will."

Again Professor McGonagal stepped forward, softening the crease on her robe. She smiled out somewhat half-heartedly at us before diving her hand into the bowl. I felt Lavender's body vibrating with anticipation in the chair across the table as she swooned over Ron. Everyone in the hall seemed to hold their breath at the same time. One giant collective inhale. In that moment of weakness, I allowed myself to ponder on the idea of what would happen if I was chosen. I thought, just for a second what my future might hold. Would Ron be there? Harry? Ginny? Would crook shanks live forever like my mom had promised when he got sick 4 years ago? Would I get married? Have children? But most of all as Professor McGonagal opened that piece of paper and handed it to Dumbledore I didn't think about whether or not I would be happy or all of those other simplistic things. I wonder would it tell me who I was supposed to be.

"Ah let's see," Dumbledore smized, adjusting his glasses to read the print.

"The winner of the Fanques Future Reciever goes to Miss Hermione Granger! Please a big round of applause!" Dumbledore says, clapping, motioning for everyone else to join in. I look around the room waiting for the girl to stand up but everywhere I turn eyes seem to meet mine with a gleeful and slightly bemused expression.

"Hermione, get up!" Ron says, pulling my elbow. His hand big and warm, it reminds me of my father's grip.

"Hmm?" I say, unsure. Ron stares at me incredulously.

"Hermione now," Ron says. "Before they change their mind and give it to someone else," he explains, standing up and pulling me up with him. A small laugh breaks out in areas around the hall.

"Now, now. Come, Miss Granger. I know you must be a little shocked," Dumbledore says, hushing the little outbursts of laughter.

It eventually sinks in when I'm on my feet. Ron pushes me ahead followed by Harry, somewhat harder than Ron. My palms start to sweat furiously and no amount of rubbing them against my pleated skirt seems to quell it. I look towards Lavender before I start walking to see her cheeks are as red as apples. She's furious and the second I see it I'm willing to give it back because as excited as Dumbledore looks for me, I am the one who has to share a room with Lavender Brown tonight. I step up to the front of the hall.

"Congratulations Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall says putting her arm on my shoulder and smiling. Dumbledore smiled brightly out to the crowd. Always the optimistic.

"Now for the giver!" Dumbledore states before letting a hand fall into his robe pocket and taking out a small vile. He already has it I thought.

"This was gathered from you last night while you slept Miss Granger," Dumbledore whispers down to me when he notices my confused expression peering up at him. I nod a little embarrassed I had been so obvious.

McGonagal again like before dips her hand into the glass bowl, smiling out to the crowd as she does so, each of them following her movement with bated-breath. I looked out to the crowd once before she called the name to see Ron and Harry smiling up at me proudly with Lavender fuming in the corner. For once I think this just might be a good thing. If Ron and Harry are happy for me then I can be happy for me too.

"Draco Malfoy!" Dumbledore exclaims, opening the piece of rolled-up parchment.

My heart drops and slides away back down to my seat beside Ron. I turn to Dumbledore and I wait for him to say something else crazy to prove that this is just a horrible nightmare I'm going to wake up from in a minute or two after I notice I'm in my underwear or something silly like that. But nothing changes.

"Pardon?" I stammer, scanning the isle of green to find his sickly pale face staring up at me incurious. His table erupts in laughter, everyone aware of the deep hatred between us. I look towards the teachers behind us hoping maybe one of them might stand up and suggest another go. It was a bad roll of the dice, maybe we should just start over. Dumbledore quickly silences the laughter at once, beckoning Malfoy forward. McGonagall places her hand on my shoulder and it's the closest I'm going to get to waking up from this nightmare.

I stare out searching for Harry and Ron's faces finding them staring back at me with an apologetic turn of the mouth. I try to calm myself as Malfoy reluctantly makes his way forward to the top of the hall. I can see his classmates slapping him on the backside as he dawns closer. My cheeks flush red as I think of the things he might see. What if I turn out really horrible and he uses it against me? What if my husband turns out to be someone in the year and he tells them? What if he knows something important like when I'll die and doesn't tell me as punishment for my blood status? After every insane thought under the sun crosses my mind I'm as calm as If I was flying.

"Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore says handing him the tiny green vile that contains my future. He rolls in between his fingers for a second before looking back at Dumbledore. He doesn't look at me but merely stares at the ground as if he would rather be anywhere else but here. I don't blame him. For once Malfoy and I actually have something in common.

"Let's get this over with already," he grunts, stepping down from the platform. The Slytherins cheer, charming fireworks, and explosions, mostly slagging Malfoy.

"Very Well," Dumbledore smiles, leading Malfoy and myself away. He leads us down the center of the middle aisle. As I pass Harry and Ron they reach out their hands and I touch them both as they smile at me. I brush their fingers with mine and their support makes me feel a little stronger. Lavender wears a sick smirk as I pass. I can hear the Slytherin chanting even after we leave the great hall.

Malfoy is silent as we walk to Dumbledore's office. Constantly he rolls the green vile in between his fingers, once or twice almost dropping it. I feel my fist clench at my waist. I want to hit him again. He is rolling around my life in his hands and he thinks it's a joke. I turn my head subtly to look at him to find he's looking away, out over the hills in the distance through the window. But we pass the window quickly and he looks down, back to my future in his hands. I briefly wonder what it feels like to touch it. Does it have a weight?

We stop outside Dumbledore's office before I know it. He looks down at me like my father would have at this moment before ushering me into a nearby classroom to wait. Malfoy doesn't look at me as I leave and it worries me more than anything. Just as McGonagall closed the classroom door I get a glimpse of Dumbledore's hand dropping onto Malfoy's shoulder in an unusual way.

I paced back and forth for what seemed like hours. Over analysing every possible outcome like I feel I do with everything. Will he use it against me? Why did Dumbledore touch him like that? What if I don't get married and live alone with 20 cats? What if all my studying was for nothing and I amount to nothing like Malfoy always suggested? Most of all I think how much of this will he use against me. It has been hyped up enough. It's all anyone's talked about since it was announced three weeks ago. My secrets will be painted across the school walls for everyone to see by noon tomorrow.

"Miss Granger, are you okay?" McGonagall asks to which I remember shes in the room. I quickly try to wet the floor of my mouth that has gone terribly dry since Dumbledore called my name.

"Yes," I say but it comes as more of a grunt. "I'm sorry I'm just a little worried given the circumstances," I admit. McGonagall seems to weigh this out in her head.

"I understand Miss Granger. I will admit they are a bit peculiar," she says twiddling her hands nervously.

"Miss, what do I do if he chooses to exploit this information," I ask shyly.

"Don't worry Miss Granger, I'm sure Dumbledore will explain to him the seriousness of this situation. Now please don't fret so much," McGonagall says, calming me a little bit.

The door suddenly creaks open and Malfoy half falls in. He stumbles slightly as if someone has pushed him. His face is a sickly pale – worse than usual - and my chest clenches. That good? I think. It must be if he's looking so sick with knowledge. I sigh and move towards him, leaning against a table near to him. I fix the end of my skirt as McGonagall excuses herself from the room with a gracious nod of her head.

Malfoy sits on top of one of the tables and kicks his heel back into the metal legs. I sigh.

"Come on then," I start because I refuse to sit in this awkward silence anymore.

"At least tell me a little before you go laughing about it with your friends," I say, folding my legs under the chair to stop them from shaking. Malfoy remains quiet with a distant look upon his face, his eyes searching far outside of this room.

"Come on Malfoy. I know you hate me but just tell me is it good or bad? You at least have that much in you?" I ask, sliding forward expectantly, trying to appeal to any part of him that is willing to see reason. He slides his hand through his long slightly greasy blonde hair and glares back at me. There are purple bags under each eye as he switches to stare at each pupil.

"What did you expect Granger huh?" He asks sarcastically. His face resetting to his normal sneer like some sort of machine that has frozen for a second.

"What do you mean? I didn't expect anything because I didn't even entertain the thought until Dumbledore called my name," I admit, annoyed. He laughs, running his hands through his hair again, It starts to stick up all over the place, unkempt.

"Well, what you expect now is only half of what you'll actually get. Don't look at me like that," He warns as I scowl at him.

"What does that even mean?" I shout. I hear movement outside the door and Malfoy notices it too, shifting on the table. I let my anger subside not wanting McGonagall or Dumbledore to storm in afraid we're at each other's throats.

"You know you're going to be happy," Malfoy finally admits after we've both visibly calmed down.

"You don't need me to tell you that." "In fact," he starts standing up from the table. "You don't need me at all so bloody remember that. There will be no friendship from this so stay away from me okay? You'll be happy. Lucky for you!" He says and bows sarcastically and with that Malfoy storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him. The room is silent again.

"What do you mean he only said that?" Ron says loudly to which most of the Gryffindor table who were trying to eavesdrop heard. The turn to each other and whisper, staring at me over their shoulders.

"Shut up you idiot!" Ginny hushes, ramming Ron in the ribs with her elbow. Ron spits the chicken wing out across the table at Neville with the blow to the ribs.

"Sorry Mate," Ron laughs as Neville –with a sour face- removes the chicken from his hair.

"That's all he said," I sigh moving my peas around the plate.

"I'll fix his little red wagon so!" Ron exclaims throwing his tissue aside and standing up to find Malfoy nowhere in sight at the Slytherin table.

"I expected him to be easy to spot you know? Circles of people around him all laughing that sort of thing?" Ron states.

"Me too Ron," replied Harry.

"So where is he?" I ask, worry filling me up inside. Losing sight of Malfoy right now is not something that I need.

**Draco Malfoy's Point of View.**

I feel Dumbledore's grip on my shoulder and I exhale deeply. What is this oaf doing now?

"Sherbet Lemon," he says in his aged voice smiling down at me. I think of my father's voice and how different it sounds now to when I was a child. Doesn't Dumbledore know? Surely he must know what I've been chosen to do.

We enter the lift as it starts to elevate upwards.

"You know Mr. Malfoy," he starts, turning to me. "I've often admired you for your great talents and intellect. Often a little cocky, overwhelming naive and gullible but you have got a head between your two shoulders and no one can deny that." Dumbledore praises, clutching my shoulder more tightly. I awkwardly avert my eyes.

"Often in life when bad things happen we are presented with an opportunity. A pathway if you will." He says as he motions me off the stone staircase and towards the Pensive. It appears out of a hidden crack in the wall and glides effortlessly towards Dumbledore's desk. The vile feels like fire in my hand when Dumbledore reaches forward to take it, burning like acid as he drags it out of my clutch. My hand feels lighter once it's gone. He unscrews the top and drops the green liquid into the Pensieve.

"..and this Draco is your second pathway in life. I hope you chose wisely," he explains. Before I can ask what the hell he's talking about he pushes my head forward into the Pensieve and I begin to fall. _Physically_ fall. I reach out to grab something but there's nothing but the feeling of the wind between my fingers.

I hit the ground painlessly on soft earth as if I hadn't just been free falling. It feels like sand and when I open my eyes I realize it is sand. I haven't felt sand in a long time. It has been years since my family has gone to the beach. I grip it in my hands but unfortunately, it falls quickly between the cracks. I go to gather another handful in aggravation when I hear a burst of familiar laughter coming from a house I hadn't noticed. I turn on my knee and stand up to get a better look at the house. It's large and wooden with a big front porch. This isn't England anymore. I can tell that much by the sun in the sky. It's somewhere hot, somewhere exotic. Somewhere I haven't been before.

My trail of thoughts is pulled back as I hear the laughter again. I stand up quickly and make my way towards it. Following the vibrations of the sound in my ear. Over a slight hill, I get a better view of the house and see the sea isn't far. In fact, the house is on the beach. I stare out at the vast openness of the ocean to find two figures running in the sand, a man and a woman. They seem to be racing. The women trying desperately to catch up with the man who turns unexpectedly on his heel and catches the woman in his arms. They fall in a heap on the ground and the laughter gets louder before the image or vision I'm stuck in changes and shifts. I'm dropped somewhere else, losing the smell of the ocean.

Like a star just dropping out of the sky, the new surroundings are overwhelming. I crawl forward on the wooden floor to find myself hitting into something. I look up to find an older Hermione smiling, staring across the room. She's holding a boy in her arms but she can't see me. The child looks about 3 or 4 years old with pale skin and blonde hair but he's got her eyes and that's when I realize it's her son. She's smiles and laughs as if someone's said something hilarious, tending to the child when he cries. I can't help but stare at her in amazement. She looks about 30 but she is still her. She is still exactly the same and it's hard to look at. I try to call out to her but she can't see or hear me. I turn my head to see who she's smiling at but the image drops again only to manifest me somewhere else in a different glimpse of her life. Her future.

It all moves rapidly through a secession of people, images, and places. Everything that is her life as I stand trapped to watch it all. I see our graduation across the river and her eyes lit up by the floating lanterns over the lake. Hermione hanging her first payslip on the wall. Her hand dovetailed with another paler skin much like I remember her sons being. It shifts to her, Ron and Harry smiling and laughing in what looks to be an apartment. Harry is holding the younger Weasel while Ron is wrapped around a girl I don't recognize. The laughter filters through the next secession as I see Hermione, sweating and screaming as a man holds her hand as she looks to be in labor. I turn my eyes away feeling the situation is far too intimate. The image is gone again before I can see her husband's face.

The secession slows to a stop, centering in on a bedroom. The focus drifts to Hermione lying exposed in the bed. She's completely naked only shielded slightly by the thin duvet. Her skin is darker than it is now. She's again smiling across the bed at someone. But I can't help but look at her body. Slim, tan and ripened. She looks perfect and it sickens me. But that's when I hear it and I actually think I might vomit. A laugh. A laugh I recognize as clear as day. _My laugh_ but it's not coming from my mouth. It's coming from the man on the bed with Hermione. She laughs back in response.

My heart stops as he leans forward to kiss her. He grips her naked body lifting her on top of him and she laughs down at him. I feel the heat rising in my glands. My wrist heats up and starts to swell in my robes. I drop to my knees beside the bed. Rolling almost under it in fear but I can't get away from this crazed nightmare. When will it be over? How do I make it stop?

I can hear my voice laughing. Why am I in her future? Why am I here with her? This must be some sort of joke. I can hear her sexual noises louder and quicker after mine. I can't think. I can't let myself think of anything. I can't let myself listen to her. But most of all I can't let myself think of how happy I looked. Like a completely different person. Not the person I see in the mirror now.

I feel the area beginning to vibrate around me and I know the focus is shifting again, granting me a brief respite from total neutrality I think. But instead a whole new secession begins again, but this time each image is one of us, together in her future and my heart feels hollow. I'm holding my son on the couch and he looks just like me. Hermione's twirling under a willow tree in a white dress and the colouring of it all is so bright it hurts my eyes. And then I see myself dressed in my robes and it's me that's pushing her down an empty corridor. It's me that's pushing her against the wall and kissing her. It's me that put my hand up her skirt. It's all me,-Everything. Every move that put me in her future is of my doing, My choice. And I hear Dumbledore in my ear, _I hope you chose wisely_

It all stops suddenly as if frozen and slowly the images and glimpses into her future begin to rewind slowly at the start but gaining momentum until we're back at the very start. I feel the sand of the seaside for a moment before it's black. I sigh deeply, glad it's finally over. But then it starts again showing me a different future of hers. There are quick flashes, somewhat similar to the ones I am present in but this time I am replaced by the weasel. There are no children and there is no house by the seaside from the looks of it. In fact, she is the age she is now in these glimpses. They flitter past quickly as I try to make sense of them as much as I can.

Suddenly my house appears as I drop into the glimpse, hitting the floor. When I stand up Bellatrix is there, standing over Hermione torturing her. My father and mother are present too. My mother averting her eyes wearing her lips in their usual pursed expression. But my father watches eagerly, hungrily. Beside him, I stand watching also. Hermione's screams die out as the life leaves her body and the blood drips out of the markings on her arm.

"She's finished," Bellatrix says nonchalantly as a house-elf comes to pull her body away out of sight.

Then when nothing is left of me I drift away from watching her lifeless eyes. We fade and I fall back into Dumbledore's Office. His cold hand is back on my steaming hot shoulder. I grip the Pensieve for support. Hotness rises from my stomach as I lean over the side and vomit copiously.

"What the fuck was that?" I shout, trying to keep my feet on the ground. I wipe the vomit off the side of my mouth and stare down at the mess on the floor, feeling the hotness rising again. I puke again.

"I would advise you not to use that kind of language with me, Mr. Malfoy. You will show your headmaster some respect," Dumbledore scowls down at me.

"Respect!" I exclaim. "After what you've just put me through?"

"Is that- was that some sort of sick joke?" I ask, wiping the sweat off my forehead. Dumbledore hands me a glass of water and I gulp it down.

"Why were there two?" I ask.

"Two?" he responds.

"There were two! Two different versions of Granger's future." I explain.

"There was one-" I start but my voice grows weak.

"Go on, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore says.

"There was one future that I was in – _with her_," I exclaim. He raises his eyebrow but something is off.

"The other one, it was really short and she was the same age she is now and then,-" my voice cuts off as I remember the life draining out of her eyes. Dumbledore stares at me expectantly. He has a look in his eyes that I can't place. Whether it's intrigue or knowledge.

"She died in the second one," I admit, staring at the floor unsure of how that makes me feel. It's different to hate someone and wish them dead and then see it. There is a line between them and now I have seen both sides. The future that I am not in she dies. The vile rises again in my throat but there is nothing left so I just dry heave against a wall.

Dumbledore places his hand on my shoulder and starts to lead me out of his office. Everything I have seen replays in my head as the stairs begin to move downwards. All that I have been asked to do from my family and from my master. Everything. He leads me back to the classroom. He opens the door and pushes me in.

"Make your choice Mr. Malfoy. But remember your actions have consequences."


	2. Potions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys!  
I have the second and third chapter already written so I'm going to be posting them back to back here!   
I hope this chapter answers a few more questions about the direction in which I'm going to take the story as I know it seems a little vague now.   
I want to thank the few reviews and kudos I've already received. It's always nice to get those <3
> 
> So please review and let me know if you like the way the story is going :)

**Draco's Point of View**

Pansy slides her hand around my neck, pulling me close. Her fingers slipping under the cuff of my shirt. Her fingertips are ice cold.

"Are you really not going to tell us anything?" she whines. Blaise and Goyle both lean in, eavesdropping. They continue talking amongst themselves but they aren't fooling anyone. I glare at Blaise who smirks in response. _Damn fool_. I have a feeling he's the one whose put Pansy up to bugging me today.

"Unfortunately I can't. Dumbledore charmed me," I lie, flicking the page in my history book.

"Charmed?" Pansy asks. "He didn't say anything about you having to be charmed during the announcement yesterday," she says questioningly. I sigh ready for the new onslaught of questions.

"Yeah well," I start, running my hand around the back of my neck. Pansy drops her hand.

"Dumbledore felt under the circumstances between the mudblood and me that it would be best this way. As if he knew anything," I comment.

Pansy stills stares at me. Her inquisitive eyes could draw blood from a stone. What I say to her I may as well stand up and announce to everyone else in the house with how quickly she can spread gossip. I need to placate her now before people start to talk and think I'm protecting the mudblood.

"He said I couldn't give away too many details about what I saw but I can tell you it was boring as hell. She marries some poor, unlucky fool from the ministry and has a couple of ugly half-bloods. Nothing we didn't already know. Nothing we can really use against her either," I sigh and eye Pansy. She bows her head l and I know I've said enough to keep her occupied for the time being while she spreads that around the house. Naturally- and not very subtly - she excuses herself and finds the first Slytherin girl she can. Loyalty comes second to gossip in her eyes.

I run my hands through my hair again as an excuse to have a momentary break from everyone's eager eyes. Blaise uses this moment to join me on the two-seater.

"Look Zabini, I have a throbbing headache after dealing with Pansy for the last half an hour. Whatever it is can it wait until the banging behind my eyes stops," I plead. Blaise smirks and folds his legs, throwing an arm behind me on the couch. He surveys the room as he talks.

"She making the rounds quite quickly, wouldn't you say?" Blaise notes the crowd gathered around Pansy as they try to hide. I sigh again.

"Yeah, and whose fault is it that she was bothering me all morning?" I ask, glaring at Blaise. He chuckles.

"Call it punishment," he states, smugly.

"Punishment for what?" I ask incredulously.

"You missed the meeting last night. My father told me, Master wasn't happy," Blaise murmurs low enough that it manages to stay just between us.

"I'm sorry did you not see what happened last night? I was with Dumbledore and the mudblood. I could hardly excuse myself without raising suspicion?" I claim. Blaise accepts this but his expression doesn't change.

"I'm just warning you Malfoy that the Dark Lord notes absences," Blaise warns.

"He can note all the absents he wants. He knows where my loyalty lies," I say with clenched teeth but a sweat breaks out on my back. Blaise raises his hands in defense.

"Don't bite the messenger. I'm just letting you know that your absence was noted is all," he says, defensively.

"Duly noted," I snap back. The mark on my arm starts to burn and I slap my hand over my forearm and squeeze until it passes.

"Hmm," Blaise sneers noticing my discomfort.

"Usually it's sore when it's fresh. But it could almost mean he's not too happy with you," Blaise smirks, picking up a book Pansy left behind and flicking through it nonchalantly.

"Can you just fuck off Blaise I'm not in the mood," I seethe. He snaps the book closed and eyes me with a knowing expression.

"Malfoy you know I'm only trying to help you. I am your friend and I want you to succeed with this," he admits, dropping the hand that was behind me on the couch onto my shoulder. I jolt away as it feels too similar to the way Dumbledore touched my shoulders last night.

"Woah, ease up man," Blaise laughs slapping me on the back. Pansy stops her gossiping for a second to watch the exchange between us. Seeing is there anything going on that might prove more useful to her. When she deems our conversation as below her interest she moves her attention back to the crowd around her, happy in any spotlight she can get.

"Convenient how much you consider us friends now?" I suggest. Blaise smirks again.

"I don't envy you if that's what you're getting at," he laughs sarcastically. I roll my eyes.

"Sure you don't," I say.

"Believe me when I say you weren't masters first choice given Lucius's _history_," Blaise says, poking at me. Unfortunately, he knows how to get to me. It works.

"Don't let your jealousy show too much Blaise the girls don't exactly like that," I laugh, pointing at him suggestingly. "I mean if you could actually get anyone," I say smirking. Blaise laughs but a little red patches his neck. His face remains solid. It's hard to break through a Slytherins façade. We are all built the same I guess.

"It's good you still have your sense of humor Malfoy. If you don't succeed that might be the only thing left of you," he warns. The conversation between us is a battle; the mood and tone constantly shifting. We are talking but we may as well be playing chess. We both want different end results that are in our favor.

"Hoping I won't succeed?" I suggest. "Want to take my place is it?"

"As I said before, I'm not envious. I wouldn't want to be burden with the task of murdering one of the greatest wizards of all time," he laughs. I glare at him.

"Keep your fucking voice down," I warn looking around to see a few eyes turned our way. They've noticed our conversation tone keeps changing too much. He squeezes my shoulder roughly.

"You should know he asked about what happened last night," Blaise admits.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"Well news spread fast that it was the mudblood's future you saw," Blaise says.

"And?" I say. "I already told Pansy it was a load of crap. Nothing we can use," I lie. Blaise weighs this around for a moment.

"I just thought that was just some shit you told Pansy to get her off your back," Blaise proposes.

"Nope. If there was anything of use I would have contacted the Dark Lord myself immediately," I supply. He seems to accept this. **Check**. When our verbal spar dwells I feel the tide move in my favor.

"I will let my father know then that there was nothing of use in Granger's future. I'm sure master was hoping there might be some news on Potter's plan," Blaise enquires.

"No, he wasn't even in her future," I lie. Potter had been older in the glimpse I had seen of him and the young weasel. I don't know what that means but if that information got out I don't know how much would change. It could mean that Potter lives. It could mean that he wins. Then everything could change very quickly. Perhaps my education would come second to the cause and my parents would pull me from Hogwarts. The idea of sitting in the manor every night alongside my ever silent mother doesn't appeal to me. I had hoped for two more years of ignorance before I was chosen by the dark lord to carry out this mission. I'm going to enjoy as much time as I can. While I have time left.

"That's good news then," Blaise says smiling. I freeze realising just saying that was enough to give him something to talk about.

"But it was just _her_ future," I interject before his mind can do too much wandering. "I didn't see anyone but her and picking up after a few half-bloods is all," I say, faking nonchalance.

"Waste of my time if you ask me," I say. Blaise laughs pushing my shoulder.

"Must have been horrible to have to see her filthy future," he says, his mouth turning down in disgust.

"I would have gladly given you my place then," I laugh a little too hard. But Blaise joins me quickly and the tension between us starts to ease. Common ground I think. An easy subject to sway the conversation.

"I'm good man," he answers. He steps up away from the chair and scans the room.

"Anyways, let me know if you need anything. I've got your back," he says.

"Yeah, for sure," I respond. He walks away. **Checkmate.**

**Hermione's Point of View**

I put my hand down fast on ginny's wrist.

"Ginny, please. Can we just pretend that it never happened?" I plead.

"How can you say that, Hermione? You won a prize that you don't even get because of him. It's not fair and I think you should go and see Dumbledore about it and have Malfoy hold up his end of the bargain. This is not fair on you!" She exclaims.

"I don't mind, really!" I admit. Mostly I don't care. I want to turn back time and pretend it never happened in the first place. Just move on with my life as normal.

"Now we're exactly the same. We both don't know what's supposed to happen in our future and that's the way it's meant to be. Muggles do it every day. It's called 'going with the flow'," I say trying to convince her. She scowls in response.

"Maybe if Harry went and spoke to Dumbledor-"

"I don't want Harry getting involved in this. He has enough on his plate than to worry about something as silly as this. I mean what did you expect Ginny?" I ask.

"Did you think Malfoy was going to forget he hates me and suddenly tell me everything?" I explain. But a part of me wants to sit on the other side with Ginny and berate me for not doing more. But what else can be done?

"No I didn't think he was just going to tell you everything but I would have assumed Dumbledore or Professor McGonagall might have enforced it. Even have him write it down if he didn't want to talk to you. I don't know, Hermione! I expect more than this," she says furiously.

"So did I," I admit.

"Then do something or I will," she warns stepping up away from the table to go to class. I sigh watching her walk away and out the doors of the great hall. I look towards the Slytherin table to see if Malfoy is there but he's nowhere to be seen and neither is his friends. I make my way to potions ignoring the curious eyes that follow me.

**Draco Point of View**

In potions, Slughorn divides the class into teams of two for an assignment. I end up with Blaise looking oddly smug. The worst part is not that I am stuck with Blaise but that our work table is connected to Grangers. She sends the weasel to the garden outside to pick the necessary plants and ingredients. Blaise follows him outside with a basket and a scribbled note of ingredients. I take out the cauldron and try my best to focus.

Slughorn moves to the top of the classroom and takes out a clear vile from his pocket and the class stops what they're doing.

"Whoever is lucky enough to brew this potion will win this," he says presenting the tiny vile.

"Sir, what is it?" Granger asks in her typical annoying voice. But I already know what it is by the vile it's kept in. I recognise it from something I had seen in one of my fathers older potions books in the library at home.

"Why Miss Granger I would have thought you would know what it is? Given that you currently have the top marks in the class," Slughorn says to which Granger's cheeks flush a bright red. I smirk. Serves her right. Know-it-all.

"Felix Felicis," Slughorn announces. "Also known as –"

"Liquid Luck," Granger interjects.

"Yes, Miss Granger. Very good. I was worried there for a second," Slughorn laughs to which Granger visibly relaxes having redeemed herself in her professor's eyes. I roll my eyes.

"This little potion will make all your wildest endeavors come true, giving you the courage needed to succeed. I have used it twice in my life and I must say both were terribly wonderful days." Slughorn laughs, his eyes fluttering away in memory. He sets the vile down leaning against his ink well on the table.

"Now I shall leave this here as a motivator. Whichever team brews the potion first will be able to claim it. Within the hour of the class of course," he says. Granger turns back to her work station immediately and starts the fire underneath the small cauldron. She rolls up her sleeves and sets about following the order of the instructions. I watch her finger run down the list as her brow furrows uneasily.

Blaise returns with the basket of ingredients and I grab them off of him.

"Woah, someone is excited about potions," he laughs. Granger looks up at me from her notes. I scowl and she averts her eyes to where weasel is struggling in the door with a handful of broken plants and leaves. Granger frowns and runs over to him, helping him carry them to the table. He leaves a long trail of dirt from the garden to their work station. Slughorn sighs from behind his table. Granger flushes even redder than before. She whispers a charm and the dirt gets sucked back out towards the garden.

"I need to get this right, Zabini," I whisper low so Granger or the weasel can't hear. Blaise looks around the room suspiciously.

"Why?" he asks, unsure. I nod towards the vile on the table.

"I need that liquid luck," I admit somewhat embarrassed. Blaise puts two and two together and smirks down at me. Damn him for being a little bit taller than me.

"Wipe the smirk off your face," I demand. He raises his hand in defence.

"I didn't say anything," he laughs.

"Yeah well, I know what you were thinking," I say.

"I was under the impression you weren't having trouble with the task," he questions. I elbow him in the ribs to which Granger's eyes slightly flicker up towards us from her notes. I give him a furious look to be quiet. He shrugs.

"I didn't realise you needed _courage_?" he explains. I frowned, uncomfortable with the direction the conversation is going and the fact that Granger is a mere foot away from me.

"I don't need courage. I just need it to be done. I need to finish my task. Master is waiting and that vile can guarantee I succeed," I explain. Blaise accepts this response and nods.

"If you say so," he smirks. I push his hands away from the basket and take out the ingredients, lining them up on the table. I work my way down through the list of instructions.

"Lovers tiff?" the weasel says smugly, watching us.

"Surprised you know what a lovers tiff looks like weasel!" I respond, challenging him.

"From what I've heard you haven't much experience with anything like that," I joke. Blaise sniggers beside me. Ever faithful. The weasel's face turns a shade that matches his hair.

"Boys!" Slughorn warns, eyeing us from his desk. I glower before turning my attention back to the bean-like growth on the counter.

"You have to cut it," Blaise says pointing at the notes in the book.

"Do you not see me trying?" I explain as the bean flies around the counter escaping my knife at every turn.

"Give me the bloody knife," Blaise says grabbing it from my hand.

"Be my guest," I say frustrated. I move back to let Blaise stand in front of the cauldron.

I look around the room and notice a few other students are struggling with the very same instructions. I allow myself to look up at Granger. Her hair seems to have eaten something and grown twice its mass. When she turns the weasel visibly moves away from it. Her own tiny bean-like growth darts around her worktable. The more it moves the more sweat gathers in her eyebrows. Weasel tries to help but I can tell by her facial expression that he is more of a burden than anything. She sighs dropping the knife staring around the room at everyone else. When she meets my eyes I think of the necklace under my bed in the dormitory and how it's been cursed, waiting to be gifted to Dumbledore. I look at Weasel, leaning over the instructions in the manual. I remember his hand in hers in the glimpse of her second future. I turn back to her curious expression and I see her lifeless body being dragged away by my family house-elf. That will be two deaths on my hands before I turn 19.

One is an order, the other a _choice_.

Could I spare one to make up for the other?

_An eye for an eye._

In one future Granger lives and in the other she dies.

Regardless of what happens in the first, if I keep her away from Weasel then the alternative can never come true. No matter what future she's left with. If I keep her away from him then she is safe. If I somehow warn her or convince her to stay away from him she can choose her own future. One as far away from me as possible. Maybe saving her can make up for-

"Malfoy, are you even listening?" Blaise asks interrupting my thoughts. I drop my eyes not realising I had been staring so intently at Granger this entire time.

"What is it, Zabini?" I ask. He motions to the juice leaking out of the growth-like bean on the counter.

"You were supposed to cut it," I say, reading the instructions I've read a thousand times in the last 40 minutes.

"My knife slipped and I accidentally crushed it," he admits.

"Well put it in! Come on," I urge him.

Slughorn lets out a loud roar.

"Oh Congratulations, Mr. Potter," Slughorn exclaims. "Students come! Gather around. I believe Mr. Potter here has done it," he shouts beckoning the class. I throw the book down on the counter in frustration. It flys across the worktable and hits Granger's bag off the table. Her bag tips over and her books tumble out across the floor.

"Malfoy you did that on purpose," the weasel shouts. I smirk at him, seething. Out of the three, I've really always hated him the most.

"So what if I did?" I ask, stepping towards him. My 6 foot 2 dwarfs his 5 foot 10 but he still steps forward. I leered down at him.

"Do you always have to be such a dick," the weasel asks. A few students have noticed but Slughorn is still praising Potter. I stare at the liquid luck for a minute and think of just grabbing it while everyone is distracted.

"Only when it comes to her," I say motioning towards Granger. She blushes and zips her bag up.

"Ronald, leave it," Granger begs, pulling on his hand. I look down as he cups her fragile hand in his. Heat builds in my chest. Anger. Blood red. I feel Blaise beside me, watching me. I squeeze my fist and let the anger focus on that one point.

"Easy Malfoy," Blaise whispers, real low, "Not here," he suggests, eyeing some of the students watching the altercation.

"Another time weasel," I sneer. He smiles in response. "Anytime." Granger pulls his hand as he backs off but she eyes something as he turns. When I look down I realise it's my slightly exposed forearms. I catch her eye again. She's looking for the mark that she wonders is there. But she's not stupid enough to know I wouldn't charm it if it was there. Her eyes are filled with curiosity and fear and I glare at her. I laugh as Blaise pulls me back. She frowns and turns to join the rest of the students praising the prodigy potter. What a joke to think a future is possible where we are able to be together, let alone actually co-exist peacefully.

"Let's fucking bail," I say. Blaise grabs his books off the table and follows me out of the classroom. A curious set of eyes follow.


	3. Conversations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys!
> 
> Just finished writing this chapter now and wanted to post it so it would be up to date with fanfiction.net I promise from now on there will be more interactions between Hermione and Draco. 
> 
> Please review and let me know what you think or if I should change anything!  
Much Love <3

**Hermione's Point of View.**

Harry drags the chair out beside me causing me to jump.

"Sorry!" He cries, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder to relax me. "Why are you so jumpy?" he asks, putting his books on the table in front of him.

"And why are you in this section of the library? I almost didn't recognise you. You never sit over here?" He asks, opening up the charms assignment that's due last period today. I look around noticing that there aren't many other students on the second floor beside the temp librarian. I hadn't been as inconspicuous as I had wished.

"Hermione?" He asks, his voice is unsure. "You're being a little weird," he jokes.

"I'm hiding," I finally admit, smoothing out the ends of my school skirt.

"From who?" he asks shocked.

"Mostly Ginny," I confess with a small laugh, picking up my inkwell. I open a blank page in Harry's notebook and start writing out the key points of the assignment.

"Oh, you don't have to do that," he says but his voice gives him away. I smile and he snorts a little, embarrassed. We still play this game sometimes, the pleasantries and all. He pretends it's not the reason he has come looking for me in the library and I pretend it's a burden to help him with school work. We've been doing it for years now. But it is a part of us and our relationship.

"So why are you hiding from Ginny?" he asks, changing the subject. I copy some of the notes from my assignment, changing the wording so Professor Flitwick won't notice. Not that he would notice if every student handed in the exact same assignment; word for word.

"It's nothing really," I dismiss.

"Come on," Harry pushes. I sigh putting down the quill and turning towards him.

"It's just that she kind of keeps bugging me about the whole Malfoy thing. I mean I get it I just don't want to talk about it anymore," I confess.

I don't want to think about him anymore. Each time I do I get a strange discomfort in my stomach and I refuse to allow him to have any sort of power over me. When I went to Madame Pomfrey earlier she said the pain was nothing to worry about that cold and flu season was coming up. I didn't argue with her because I knew she wasn't going to give me anything that would actually help the _situation_. It was more of a cry for help if anything.

"Hermione you can't hide in the library forever. She will eventually find you," Harry laughs and I blush a little at his remark.

"I mean it's the _first _place I looked for you," he teases.

"I know I'm just hoping that she lets it go soon is all," I say.

"I can talk to her if you want?" He offers.

"No, honestly," I insist.

"I'm sure it'll be old news very soon," Harry assures me. "But I agree with you," he says nonchalantly.

I turn towards him, confused.

"What do you mean?"

"I know it was a great opportunity and it would have been amazing if Malfoy hadn't been chosen. But he was and unfortunately, we just have to let it go. Besides, I don't want you anywhere near him," Harry maintained.

I scoff a little taken back.

"Harry," I start, resting my hand on his arm. "I am a big girl now and I can take care of myself. I'm not scared of Malfoy," I finish. Harry sighs and turns towards his charms assignment.

"I'm not trying to belittle you. I know you can hold your own," he admits.

"It's just things are different now, especially after what we saw and Borgin and Burkes," he insinuates.

"We don't know what we saw," I chastise. "It's a big assumption,"

Harry shrugs.

"Is it such a big assumption though?" he pushes. The librarian walks passed and shushes Harry, frowning when she notices I'm responsible for talking too. _Great_.

"Keep your voice down," I whisper shoving his arm. "I don't want to talk about it anymore," I say handing him over the piece of parchment with his notes on it.

"His father is a Death eater it's only natural that he too would join," Harry mutters quietly but intently.

"I mean it was going to happen eventually," he adds.

"Harry," I say, my voice a plead for him to listen.

"He's only seventeen years old. What would _you-know-who_ want with him?" I say dubiously. Harry laments loudly. I look at his face and notice the bags under his eyes and the fact that small lines are starting to form. He looks old, much older than seventeen. He turns and smiles at me reassuringly.

"I care about you, Hermione. I don't want to see anything happen to you. But you can be a little naïve sometimes," Harry says regretfully. He picks up his charms books and shoves them into the disaster that is his bag.

"He's not a good person. So if you are curious about what he saw in the Pensieve I think it's best if you just forget about it," Harry says. He picks up his bag and slings it over his left shoulder.

"I understand it's easier said than done."

"I'm not curious," I lie. Harry grins and tries to flatten down my hair on the top.

"When you're done hiding, Ron and I are going to go practice some quidditch at 2 if you want to come to watch," he offers, waving over his shoulder as he exits. The librarian passes again a look of relief on her face when she notices Harry is finally gone and her sanctuary is quiet again.

I pull out a letter from between the folds of my book and open it again, reading over it. It came in the post this morning. A letter from my parents detailing how happy they were that I had won some kind of reward. My mother had asked for details as Professor McGonagall hasn't given many details. I frown reading over it wishing Professor McGonagall hasn't sent any letter in the first place.

I take out a new piece of parchment and write a return letter to my parents. I drag it out mostly talking about school and how the trip to Hogsmeade is coming up soon, along with Slughorn's Christmas Party. When I'm almost running out of space at the end I dismiss the award and inform them it was only a small award for academics, assuring them that they hand them out every year to a student. I fold it up and seal it in a new envelope making a mental note to send it later when I'm in my room.

I turn and look out at the rain beating down outside the window. December has been particularly rough this year with more days of rain than anything else but it is to be expected. I watch the trees sway in the breeze outside thinking how the person who hates me most in the school knows more about me than I do.

**Draco's Point of View**

Blaise drops down in the couch beside me.

"Where have you been?" I question. I notice Pansy watching me from near the fireplace. The common room is unusually packed on a Thursday evening and the noise is starting to give me a headache. The noise and sounds like bleating sheep. Pansy draws a line down Nott's neck with her fingers and he leans into her. I roll my eyes in her direction. Better Nott than me.

"Tutoring first years," Blaise explains rolling up his shirt sleeves.

"Tutoring! You?" I reply smugly.

"See Malfoy you're not the only one playing a game in this school," he says arrogantly. He surveys the room, taking in the herd.

"Trying to keep up a certain image if you get what I mean," he says. "Less suspicious that way if you have a few ticks beside your name."

"You might want to give it a try," he says suggestingly.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip.

"Might draw less attention to you. From the Professors I mean," he advises.

"Look," I start, turning towards him. "I don't give a fuck what they think or who is paying attention to me. Whatever you're hinting at just spit it out," I imply.

"Let's just say I'm not the only one being asked to report back on you," he reminds me glancing around the common room. I join him and notice between the twists and turns of movements there are a few quick glances towards us by a few students I wouldn't usually pay too much attention too. I rub my hand over the back of my neck in frustration.

"You don't need to worry about it, okay? I have a plan." I express.

I want to stand up and go to my dormitory but unfortunately, Blaise shares the same room so he would probably follow me. I want to yell at him and anyone else who wants to listen that it's not exactly a simple task I have been given. It's not like I can just nip it in the bud and run to catch the last ten minutes of potions afterwards. It takes careful planning and most of all courage.

I think of Granger hidden away somewhere else in this castle most likely cosying up to weasel and I push away the image of her lifeless corpse beside Dumbledores in my head. I can feel the blood start to run out of my face and down my neck. I lean forward to stop my head spinning. The whole Granger situation has made it hard to focus on my mission. If I could just deal with her first then maybe it would pacify some of my inner turmoil and I could finally get it over and done with. But I think of what comes after and the decisions I have to make. I imagine once it's done that things will move rather quickly and it will be goodbye Hogwarts. I will have to step into the path that my father has paved for me whether I am ready for it or not.

"You need to make some progress Malfoy. People have noticed," Blaise interjects my thoughts.

"I know what I'm doing," I snap back massaging my temples. Blaise pulls a small flask from his bag and hands it to me.

"You need to chill out man. Here," He says. "It's something a little stronger than pumpkin juice," he says smirking. I take it from him and unscrew the top gulping a mouthful down. The water immediately runs out of my eyes. It's a lot stronger than pumpkin juice.

Blaise motions to Nott's hand finding it's way around Pansy's back.

"Jealous?" he eyes me. I scoff, a bit of the alcohol dripping down my chin. I swipe it away off my cuff.

"Not in the slightest," I laugh.

"Think she'll take him to Slughorn's Christmas Party?" Blaise asks. But then he turns and eyes me with a superior expression.

"Oh, that's right," he laughs. "You didn't make the cut," he jokes.

"Shut it! I don't want to go to his stupid Christmas party," I say taking another long swing from the flask. It burns down my throat but the noise in the room seems to grow a little quieter and for once I'm glad for Blaise.

"The mudblood made the cut and you didn't. Bet you didn't see that in her future," he sneers stepping up from the couch.

"Yeah, and who are you going with? Goyle?" I mock. Blaise half-smiles down at me, his eyes light up.

"Astoria Greengrass," he winks. He picks up his bag and I hand him back his flask.

"Keep it, you need it more than me right now."

I take a deep swing as Blaise disappears up the winding stairs to the dormitories.

I groan in aggravation to which a few students notice. I hadn't taken into consideration that Slughorn's party was this Saturday. If I had any chance of keeping Granger alive I needed to warn her away from Weasel. My odds of betting on her already going with the weasel seem pretty high. There was no entertaining the notion of her first future. It was this or nothing and I'll be damned if she doesn't listen.

I grab the flask and shove it in the pocket of my robe and leave the common room.

**Hermione's Point of View**

Professor McGonagall stacks the papers on her desk and shoves them in the top drawer.

"Did you check the tutoring sign-in sheet?" She asks. I eye the page checking all the names, noticing some surprising ones.

"Anyone miss their sessions today?" She asks. I notice a blank space beside Padma.

"Padma missed hers today but I saw her earlier in the infirmary. She wasn't well yesterday either so," I confirm.

"The infirmary? Why were you there today? You feeling okay Miss Granger?" McGonagall asks with concern.

"Oh no, it was nothing, really. I just had a stomach ache. I'm fine now," I stammer. She eyes me suspiciously but buys my excuse.

"Okay Miss Granger I don't know about you but I'm done here. Are you okay to finish by yourself?" She inquires.

"Of course," I assure her with a smile. McGonagall smiles back and takes her leave, her desk cleaning itself as she exits.

I pin back up the tutoring sheet on the wall and make my way around the room blowing out the candles. The wind whistles through the cracks in the window frame and I stop and listen for a minute.

Abruptly the door scratches open, creaking loudly as it drags across the floor. To my disbelief, Malfoy steps in. The rest of the candles along the right side of the room blow out with the breeze as he closes the door behind him. I'm half shrouded in darkness.

"Professor McGonagall just left," I inform him uneasily, wishing I hadn't started blowing out the candles. I step over to the other side of the classroom, into the light. He watches me with a heated expression.

"I was looking for you," he declares stepping away from the door and in front of McGonagall's desk. I step back.

"Why?" I ask trying to keep my voice even. My mouth suddenly seemed to lack any moisture. The satisfaction of the security I felt when Professor McGonagall was here is a distant memory as soon as he entered the room.

"I need you to do something for me," he says nonchalantly. I scoff a loud.

"You want _me_ to do something for _you_," I say slowly making sure I heard him correctly. He nods.

I shake my head at him aghast. This is not what I imagined when he walked into the room.

"You're joking me, right?" I ask confused. "Why would I ever do anything for you?" I question him seriously.

"Because I have information that you want," he smirks stepping towards me again. Now there are only two desks between us and my legs refuse to move. Anxiety starts to tear at my heart. If I scream now I wonder would McGonagall still hear me or is she too far gone? But I don't. Something about the way he's looking at me makes me curious. But the fear is still there because the time has officially come when he has decided to use what he saw in the Pensieve against me. Like I knew deep down it would.

"Are you blackmailing me?" I ask, afraid of the answer.

"Not exactly," he smirks, taking a seat on top of the table.

"I have some information you want, right?" he asks, tilting his head at me. His eyes are slightly glassy and most of the colour in his face is lost here in the dark. He looks different, like something I remember Harry saying when we got off the train this year in September. He mentioned that Malfoy's expression seemed different, thinner almost. Lifeless. At the time I didn't pay much attention to it because of Harry's notions about Malfoy. Now I can properly see it when he's this close to me. He's the same but not exactly. There is something missing. Something _gone_.

"I don't know if it's worth it," I admit. Surely whatever he wants me to do for him is not worth whatever he knows about me.

"Oh, it's worth it," he laughs. "But you wouldn't want anyone else to hear about either, now would you?" He adds.

"So, this is blackmail," I realise. Malfoy laughs again maliciously but I can hear somewhere in his voice that if he didn't sneer so much it might actually be an endearing laugh.

"No. This is a deal," he interjects.

"You're familiar with the term, correct? You do something for me and in return, I'll let you ask me one question every week about what I saw in the Pensieve," he says.

"Every week? How long do I have to do this thing for you?" I ask. I see his jaw visible clench and when he goes running a hand through his hair a slight wind follows, carrying with it a smell of alcohol. He's been drinking. I step away from the table and get my bag.

"Where are you going?" He demands, grabbing my arm.

"Let go of me," I say pushing on his arm. He seethes but releases my arm. I pull on my sleeve where he's ruffled the material. He's close as he glares down at me and I can smell the alcohol more clearly now. He's lucky I don't report him.

"I don't care what you saw in the Pensieve or who you plan on telling, Malfoy. I just don't care enough," I admit. His face is inexplicable but I think I see a flash of momentary panic. He smirks.

"You may be able to lie to weasel and Potter but you can't bullshit me, Granger. I'm a Slytherin," he says.

"I know that you care," he adds. I push my tongue against my teeth trying to keep my expression neutral.

"How are you so sure I care?" I inquire confidently but his smile makes me nervous.

"Because you care what people think of you. You've always worried about their opinion otherwise you wouldn't try so hard to always be right. Heaven forbid you make a mistake or get an answer wrong. What would they say about you then?" he laughs.

"Oh, the mudblood really isn't that smart they'll say. What can she possibly offer the prodigy Potter now?" he admits. Malfoy has a way of holding his expression when he knows what he's going to say is going to hurt someone. I look away because I don't want to see. But it does hurt and he knows it. How can he look at me and know me like that? _Really_ know me. Especially when this conversation is the most words we've ever spoken to each other consecutively.

"What is it that you want?" I finally ask, complaint. He sighs as his breath washes over me pushing the flyways past my ears.

"I need you to stay away from the weasel," he admits finally. I step back bumping into a table and what feels like bruising my hip. "Romantically," he adds, eyeing me.

"Ron!" I shout, confused. "You want me to stay away from one of my best friends. Why? What reason could you possibly have?" I exclaim.

"Besides there's nothing between Ron and me anyways," I divulge. Malfoy scoffs and rolls his eyes.

"God you really aren't as smart as you pretend to be," he says.

"What do you mean?" I ask questioningly.

"That oaf practically drools after you, Granger. I guess you just don't notice it," he says. I blush furiously and try to avert my eyes.

"I don't know what you mean," I stammer and Malfoy smirks in response clearly pleased with making me so uncomfortable.

"That is my offer," he declares, his tone final.

"I just told you there was nothing between Ron and I. So, deal. No big deal to me," I admit feeling a little dirty agreeing to something Malfoy has asked me to do.

"Good," Malfoy says. "Because I'll be watching, Granger," he adds smirking. I look at his plush, red lips as he speaks, marvel over his slim nose and high cheekbones. I think of how conventionally handsome Draco Malfoy is and I wonder who he will end up with. Perhaps another Slytherin; maybe Pansy. Or the really beautiful girl in 7th year. I wonder if the roles were reversed what I would see in his future.

I snap back, confused. Maybe I'm getting high off the alcohol fumes coming from him. He creases his eyebrows at me and I blush.

"I-I have to go," I say picking up my bag and pushing past him. When I get to the door Malfoy calls.

"Granger," he yells. I turn around on my heel. "First of all, let us keep this a secret between you and me," he warns. I nod. Not like I would want anyone finding out that Malfoy and I managed to talk in a room for 10 minutes without anyone getting hurt or seriously injured.

"and aren't you forgetting something?" he asks. The question makes my cheek flush red as it reminds me of my mother asking it before I would leave for primary school. She would lean her cheek down for a peck.

"Um," I stutter looking around the room. He rolls his eyes.

"Your question?" he asks. "One a week, remember?" He says. I look around the room and gather my thoughts. The breeze coming in the aperture of the door whistles between my legs making all the hairs stand up on my upper thigh. I had completely forgotten about it.

"Why do you want me to stay away from Ron?" I ask. He rolls his eyes in response.

"That's my business, Granger. Now ask me a question about your future," he demands. I stare at him waiting expectantly as he leans against the desk with his sleeves rolled up. I think of asking something else but I let it go.

"Is…Ginny there," I finally ask, clenching my jaw. He walks towards me and examines me with a curious and slightly confused expression. I look away not wanting to admit that I am afraid to know anything about my future all of a sudden. Terrified in fact and I think he might know it.

"Yeah," he starts still watching me curiously. "She's there with you." I nod slowly, smiling slightly trying to keep it together. Something about being under Malfoys scrutiny makes it harder to keep my emotions in check. He has a way of looking at people that puts them on edge; makes them doubt themselves.

"Okay," I reply. He looks me up and down with a conceited, knowing expression.

"Why that question?" he asks. I sigh and start to turn away but he grabs my arm, pulling me back around to face him.

"Hmm?" He asks. "Why not a different one?" he says eyeing me.

"I just wanted to know," I lie.

"Hmm I'm sure it was burning at the tip of your tongue," he teases. I pull my arm out of his grip roughly.

"Can you stop being so full of yourself for 5 seconds," I sneer back at him. He laughs out loud and it's a strange thing to watch. Draco Malfoy laughing without some tortured second year on the ground is a strange occurrence.

"I didn't realise you were so feisty," he smirks. I blush scarlet unsure of what way to take it. He slings the arm of his bag over his shoulder and heads towards the door, brushing past me. I lean away but his shoulder still manages to touch me.

"But remember," he says, laying his hand on top of my shoulder and squeezing enough to gather my full attention.

"You can't lie to me, Granger. I see right through you now," he says flashing me his infamous Malfoy half-smirk once more.

I think of Harry's warning in the library that I should stay away from Malfoy because he is dangerous. I reflect on the way it had made me feel to have Harry feel the need to protect me. That I was naïve and not able to handle myself.

I grab his hand and push it off my shoulder and it drops to his side.

"I see through you too," I reply smugly pushing past him. His eyebrows shoot up in surprise. I leave the room.

The scariest part had not been the conversation, the threats or even the proximity to Malfoy. The real fear stemmed from the look that crossed his face as I walked out the door. I could have imagined it as my body had been pumping with fear and adrenaline. But I don't think I could have _really_ imagined that genuine smile.


	4. Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!  
I just want to say thanks to everyone who left kudos or reviewed the last three chapters. It means a lot to me to see you're enjoying the story so far. I hope you enjoy this chapter as well. Sorry if there are any mistakes my spell/grammar check wouldn't work properly on my laptop! I shall have it fixed for the next chapter!  
Much love <3

**Hermione’s Point of View. **

“Are you going to eat that?” Ron asks pointing to the baked potato on my plate. I sigh.

“Ron,” I say pointing towards the entire platter of potatoes beside him.

“Yeah, but those are for everyone and you’re just going to waste that one if you don’t eat it.” He says digging his fork into the potato.

“You are honestly unbelievable Ron,” I laugh as he puts butter on top and lets it melt over.

“Hermione, I come from a very big household okay if you stop eating for a second everything on your plates is at risk of being snatched,” he jokes and I scoff back into my cranberry juice eyeing Ginny.

“Don’t look at me! He’s not wrong,” she laughs.

“We wouldn’t really understand Hermione. We come from small families,” Harry adds patting my shoulder. I smile back as everyone laughs at Ron devouring the potato. When he’s finished, he throws his arm around my shoulders and pulls me in close.

“But come now, we’re all here so you have to tell us what’s wrong Hermione,” Ron asks, keeping me pulled tight against him. It feels warm and safe and I exhale a breath, feeling my shoulders relax.

“What do you mean?” I ask, staring into his shoulder so he can’t look at my face.

“We’ve all noticed something has been up with you,” Ron says. He squeezes me comfortingly again. “But we’re here if you want to talk,” he assures me. I lean my head on his shoulder and look at Ginny’s similar reassuring smile. Harry takes my hand in his and gives it a little squeeze. I feel warm all over just from being near them all.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been myself the last few days,” I admit, embarrassed.

“Don’t worry about it Hermione,” Ginny says. “We understand you’ve been going through a lot especially with Malfoy stealing away your opportunity.”

“Yeah, I still can’t believe Dumbledore just allowed that whole thing to happen given your history. I mean everyone knows what kind of scum he is.” Ron interjects. They start to talk over one another about the situation, each voicing their opinion. The constant mention of Malfoys name makes my head spin.

“Can we just not talk about Malfoy anymore,” I say, raising my voice to be heard over them. They turn and look at me and smile apologetically.

“We’re sorry,” Ron smiles down at me, rubbing his arm up and down mine. I lean into him a little and it’s comforting.

“We just want you to be happy,” Ginny adds. I stare at their expressions and feel embarrassed about the whole situation with Malfoy and how I’m technically lying to them by not telling them about it.

“I have a question,” I say, gathering their attention.

“Go on,” Harry says.

“What would you do if someone was asking something of you. Something a little _odd_, and perhaps difficult,” I say unsure of myself.

“Well if it makes you uncomfortable you shouldn’t do it,” Ginny says.

“A friend wouldn’t ask something of you that made you feel uncomfortable,” Harry adds.

“Yeah but sometimes in life, we have to do things that are difficult,” Ron chimed in. “But maybe you should be wondering why this person is asking you to do something that makes you uncomfortable,” he adds. “What do they get out of it?” he says.

I turn to look up at his face as he looks at me with intrigue.

“People always have ulterior motives,” he adds.

“When did you get so _smart_,” Ginny says exploding into laughter to which Harry and I quickly follow.

“Hey,” Ron laughs throwing potato skin towards Ginny. “Hermione isn’t the only smart one,” he jokes.

Ron’s words give me food for thought as I think more about the situation. What would Malfoy get out of me staying away from Ron? I know that he doesn’t like Ron but he hates me equally. Ron squeezes me close again as I smile into his shoulder. I scan around the hall looking at the other students laughing also, carefree enjoying their lunch. When I find the Slytherin table Draco Malfoy is watching me. My stomach drops a little when our eyes connect.

_I’ll be watching _he had warned. Seems Draco Malfoy is true to his word. His jaw clenches as he glares at me. I scrunch my eyebrows together in confusion. Surely, he must know that there is nothing going on between Ron and I. I look up at Ron and view the situation and a small part of me can understand how it might be going against our agreement. I lean away from Ron and grab my glass of cranberry juice, taking a long swing.

Ron dismisses it nonchalantly and lets his arm drop back to his side, not breaking the conversation with Harry. I give Malfoy a look enquiring is he happy now and he averts his eyes.

“Hermione, you’ll come to my dormitory tonight to get ready for Slughorn’s right?” Ginny asks and I nod, a little shaken from being under Malfoys scrutiny.

“What time will ye be ready at, do you think?” Harry asks.

“Around eight,” Ginny answers.

“Okay, Ron and I should be ready around then too. Well, I’m ready now,” Harry laughs as he and Ron get up from the table. I turn to Ron accusingly.

“And who are you going with Mr,” I ask, jokingly. He grabs his bag and pats me on the head with his notebook.

“With you stupid, duh!” he laughs. “I’m not going to miss the party everyone else is going to,” he says as he and Harry leave for class. I turn to Ginny in a panic.

“What was that about?” I ask, grabbing her arm.

“Woah girl, calm down. What’s wrong?” she asks grabbing her bag.

“Why does Ron think we’re going to Slughorn’s party together,” I ask.

“What do you mean? I told him we were all going and I mentioned you didn’t have a date and he really wanted to go. Is there something wrong?” Ginny asks, confused.

“Oh my god, do you have a date or something you didn’t tell us about?” She enquires with a shocked expression. Her face falls into the shape of an ‘O’. I wave her off.

“Of course not,” I assure her. “I was just a little confused,” I admit. Ginny eyes me a little sceptical.

“It will be fine Hermione. I doubt he’s expecting flowers,” Ginny jokes. “He just doesn’t want to be left out for the evening when we’re all going,” she adds.

That’s all well and good I just hope Malfoy see it that way too. I stare over at his table as Ginny and I make our way out of the great hall and true to his word; he’s watching.

* * *

**Draco’s Point of View**

“I guess you won’t be going tonight,” Blaise smirks, eyeing Pansy and Nott across the classroom.

“They look awful cosy together don’t you think?” Blaise notes. I look over at them watching as Pansy seems to have him wrapped around her little finger.

“He’s the one who’s going to have to listen to her shit all the time, not me,” I say, opening our potions book. I mark down the ingredients and hand them to Blaise.

“Anyways I don’t want to go to some stupid party with Slughorn,” I add as Blaise snatches the list from me and reluctantly heads outside to the garden. I watch as the other students divide up the tasks and half the class heads outside. With the room feeling smaller and more secluded I move to the right side of the workstation and eye Granger. She’s making an awful lot of noise trying to pretend she’s busy.

“What was that today,” I say quietly, looking around the room to make sure no one is watching us. Fortunately, the other remaining students are looking through their textbook or talking to one another.

“I don’t know what you mean,” she mumbles back, flipping a page.

“Really? You’ve no idea, huh?” I ask. She eyes me briefly and has a look around the room.

“I thought I made myself clear about the weasel, Granger,” I say deeply. She moves away from her textbook and leans over at me across the workstation.

“Ron and I are **friends**, Malfoy. I can’t just cut him from my life. I don’t know what you think is going on but you’re wrong,” she scowls. I smirk inwardly. What a naïve girl.

“Unfortunately, Granger you are only book smart. You don’t seem to notice things right in front of your nose,” I say, watching her. She furrows her brows together as a hint of anger crosses her face. She has to work considerably to keep it at bay. But something in me feels the need to keep poking like I want to see her at her worst. To see Hermione Granger really get mad stirs a sort of excitement in me.

“Unfortunately for _you_ Malfoy, you are neither if you think there is anything there between us. Ron considers me just a friend,” she slanders back at me.

“And how do you consider him?” I ask. It’s out in the open before I can take it back. Her face scrunches up. I keep a carefully crafted smirk in place.

“I don’t want to play these games with you Malfoy. I am lying to my friends for you and I don’t even know why. Why do you want this? What do you get out of this?” she asks, leaning across at me, her voice low as she gives another quick scan around the room.

“I have held up my end of the bargain Granger it’s not my fault you chose to squander the questions. Therefore, I don’t have to explain myself to you,” I snap back.

“Are you going to keep up your end of the bargain or not?” I ask as Blaise and the weasel seem to be making their way back into the classroom. She seems to notice them at the same time as I do. She weights the question in her head as our eyes search each other with malice across the work station. Finally, she nods slowly as the weasel takes his place beside her.

Blaise eyes Granger sceptically and it turns my stomach. It was such a short conversation surely, he couldn’t have heard anything or picked up on anything. Even Blaise Zabini isn’t _that_ good. But he watches her nonetheless. I pull the ingredients out of the basket as Slughorn wanders around the class talking to the students.

Granger laughs at something the weasel said and I watch the easiness between them. I compare it begrudgingly to all the relationships I have and I cannot say that I have an easiness like that with anyone. Most of my relationships with people were formed before I even started at Hogwarts. My father introduced me to Blaise when we were 10 years old and I knew of Pansy from Blaise before we even got on the train. Crab and Goyle seemed to just fall into the group almost without invitation. There is an understanding between us and a small amount of loyalty affiliated with sharing the same cause. But other than that Granger and I do not sure the same types of relationships.

Her relationships are based on normal things such as similarities and friendship alongside support and comfort. She - because of her status - is allowed to pick and chose who she has in her life and for that small detail, I envy her greatly. Everyone else in this room including Granger gets to choose the way in which they want their life to go and who they want around them. I look at weasel and wonder how he would cope in my situation. But then I shudder to think about how I would cope with his. But maybe I could give up the mansion and the servants if it meant I was allowed free will.

“So what colour are you wearing tonight?” I hear the weasel say from across the shared workstation. I pause, letting the potions textbook fall open on a random page not associated at all with the work we’re doing. I don’t notice Blaise watching.

“I’m not really sure how this is supposed to go. Is it a kind of event where I have to match my tie to your dress colour?” he asks her indifferently. I look over at her to see she’s trying to hide her face. I guess Granger doesn’t plan to keep her side of the agreement at all if they’re both going to Slughorn’s together. How _dare_ she lie to me so easily.

I continue to flick the pages in the book as I try to keep my temper at bay.

“No, it’s nothing like that Ronald you can wear whatever you want. We don’t have to be matching. I mean it’s not like we’re going _together_-together,” she says eyeing me. I glare back at her.

“Oh well,- I mean I guess so. If that’s what you want.” The weasel excuses himself from the table to get something off the shelf. Granger visibly relaxes and something in the obvious rejection twists at my stomach. I clear my throat and start adding to the potion feeling a little smug.

When Blaise noticeably disconnects from the work to talk across the room with Goyle, Granger allows herself to look at me. It’s obvious since she’s been trying so hard not to meet my eye for the last forty-five minutes. But when I look at her now, I see the women from the first future, the one that I am in. The older Granger with our child and the women in the bed. I don’t know what it is that causes me to see her this way now or even why. But it just happens. It’s not exactly like I imagine myself there it’s just the way she appears in my head now. The same Granger but slightly mature and not as naïve as she is now.

When the weasel comes back to the work station he holds his tails between his legs and I can’t stop the smirk that comes. Blaise notices and that worries me so I try to hide it and focus on the cauldron. When he looks back to answer Goyle I stare at her again, really looking this time at her. I can safely say that I have never really looked at Granger this way before. I didn’t have much reason too. She may as well have been a different species with the way _we_ viewed _them_. But seeing what I saw in the pensive has seemed to chip away at something inside me. Begrudgingly I notice her now in a way I didn’t before and If I’m not one hundred per cent on my game Blaise is going to notice too.

The worse outcome is not that I should end up with her as I saw in the pensive. But merely that it is now possible after what I saw. Because it changed how I see her. I now see her for what she is. Just another girl on equal grounds with the rest and that scares me.

I shake my head and push those thoughts aside, chalking them down to momentary weakness brought on my stress and fear. Anxiety about what has to be done.

When the bell sounds for the end of school the weasel grabs Grangers bag and slings it over his shoulder as they walk side by side out of the classroom. I stare at the thin wire of her bag strap and think how I’d like to wrap it around the weasel’s neck.

* * *

**Hermione’s Point of View. **

Ginny pulls the brush through my hair and I grab at my scalp.

“My god Ginny!” I shout, pushing against my scalp to stop the pain.

“What do you want me to do Hermione? It’s like a living, breathing monster!” Ginny laughs and I laugh along with her.

“I’ll be back in a minute I’m going to go and ask Lavender the spell she uses for her hair,” Ginny says leaving the dormitory. Padma sits in the corner staring at her dress hanging up on the locker.

“You excited?” I ask, watching her. She turns around and smiles sadly at me.

“Sort of, I guess,” she answers.

“What do you mean sort of?” I ask, confused.

“Well I was too nervous to ask anyone to go with me so I asked my sister,” she admits, embarrassed. I blush a little too.

“And, where is the shame in that?” I answer trying to seem confident.

“I was going to go on my own too but- “

“But you’re not,” Padma interjects. “I’ll be the only girl there by themselves.” She sobs.

“Don’t be silly no one is even going to notice you brought your sister. This is only a small party I wouldn’t worry Padma,” I assure her. She wipes the tears off her cheeks and smiles at me.

“Now, feeling better?” I ask. She smiles back and takes the dress off the hanger and starts to get ready. I turn around and face myself in the mirror and try to finish combing through my hair but Ginny is right, it seems like a lost cause.

When Ginny finally arrives back, I’m already dressed and she mumbles a quick spell turning my head into a more manageable mess.

“I suppose it’s better than it was. What do you think?” She asks me. I turn to face the mirror and notice although it is the same hair it’s a lot less frizzy now. The curls sit loose down my shoulders rather than in a giant heap.

“It’s lovely Ginny thank you,” I say. Ginny gets ready quickly and we head down to the common room to meet the boys. They’re standing beside the fireplace with Seamus looking smug. When Ginny and I walk up they seem to shuffle around hiding something.

“Come on now. What is it you’ve got?” Ginny asked putting out her hand like their mother. Harry blushes and points to Seamus who elbows him in the ribs.

“Wait to sell me out under pressure, Potter!” Seamus berates him to which Harry only laughs in return. Seamus hands over a small flash to Ginny.

“You were going to sneak alcohol into a party that’s being thrown by one of the professors. Are ye all stupid?” Ginny says angrily. Ron raises his hands in defence looking around for someone else to blame. She hands the flask back to Seamus who looks shocked and slightly relieved.

“Do whatever ye want! Just don’t involve me or Hermione,” she says leaving the common room. I quickly follow her leaving the boys to it.

* * *

Inside the small classroom, the room hardly looks like it did a few hours ago. The candles are more festive as they float around the high ceiling. Banners hang around reading festive spells that cause tinsel to pour out of the tip of your wand. I lean against the counter near the back of the room watching everyone. Although the clock only says 9.30 pm it feels like I’ve been here listening to this whiny piano music for the last 4 hours. I turn to find Ginny to see her standing flirting with Dean Thomas and although it’s a little out of character for her she looks happy in his company. Harry, on the other hand, has magically changed into a foul humour while Ron tries to cheer him up near the pumpkin juice fountain. They pass a flask back and forth to one another and I roll my eyes at them.

I look around the room and watch everyone, noticing who’s talking to who and who might be flirting. It’s something I rarely ever do. But I suppose in this context where nothing else can be done it’s all I have left. Although there are people from every house in this room somehow the Slytherin’s keep to themselves over by the floating glass display. I notice Pansy hand in Nott’s and wonder how long they have been a thing. I was under the impression that Pansy fancied herself more with Malfoy. Clearly, she makes the rounds.

When I scan the room again, I notice someone else. Someone who’s not only by themselves but also looking at me. Blaise Zabini. A shudder of discomfort rolls through me as our eyes meet. I don’t like it. He smirks at me and I think I’m imagining it. Did Malfoy tell him about our arrangement? Surely not. Malfoy wouldn’t want anyone to know we even speak to one another. I move away from the curtains and make my way towards Ginny as she picks an appetizer off one of the floating plates.

“Ginny, I think I might just head back to the dormitories I have an ancient runes test tomorrow and I want to get a little studying in before I go to sleep,” I mention. Ginny groans.

“Hermione! Come on,” Ginny exclaims loudly. “We never get to go anywhere and the first time we get to go to a party you want to go home early. Please stay with me,” Ginny begs. I blush, my cheeks feeling hot under her gaze.

“I’m sorry Ginny. But you can stay I really don’t mind. I’m just going to head back now, okay?” Reluctantly after much persisting, Ginny finally agrees to stay and let me go alone. I hug her and thank her again for doing my hair. I wave at Dean as I leave and duck away from Ron and Harry before I have to have the same long drawn out fight with them too about wanting to leave early.

Outside the hall and away from the noise I feel a weight off my shoulders. There is something about being in a room with so many people and feeling that you have to act a certain way that drains me terribly. I make my way back to the Gryffindor dormitories slowly, feeling comfort in the quiet of the hallways. That is until I hear a set of footsteps following me.

At first, I don’t react much. I keep up the same pace and pretence while trying to hear them. Trying to see if I recognise the footstep pattern. But I don’t. When I round the corner by the entrance to the bridge I pick up the pace worried that I might get caught on the bridge with a stranger.

“In a rush, Granger?” a voice calls from behind. When I turn around, I see Blaise Zabini following close behind me. It’s not that I’m scared of Blaise on a normal day. But it’s late and the hallways are empty and he looks well over 6 foot.

“I’m heading back to my dormitory. What are you doing out here?” I ask, trying to keep my voice straight. He eyes me and grins.

“Just thought I’d take a walk and clear my head. Nice night for it don’t you think?” Blaise asks stepping close to me. I step back towards the doorway to the bridge. It’s either I walk out onto the bridge alone with him or I turn back the way we came and head back to the party. I don’t like either of those options. Blaise steps closer again making the distance between us about an arm's length. I can feel the fear now. I think about turning and running, surely he won’t be able to catch up with me if he’s caught off guard. I steady myself and start to turn my leg when a figure appears behind him coming around the corner.

“Zabini, I’ve been looking for you,” Malfoy calls from down the hallway we’ve just come from. He’s dressed in his robes with the hood hanging down over his forehead, as he makes his way towards us. I peak out around Blaise’s shoulder to see Malfoy’s expression. It’s not good. But Blaise has a smug knowing look on his face as he turns around. I don’t want to stand here any longer if I’m going to be the only witness to a murder.

“Really? And yet you _knew_ I was at Slughorns party tonight?” Blaise answers back smartly to which Malfoy scowls.

“What are you doing out here?” Malfoy says with a sour expression as he comes to stand beside Blaise. He laughs in response. A deep unsettling laugh that even Malfoy looks confused at.

“I wanted to see something Malfoy and you proved I was right by showing up just now,” Blaise admits, slapping Malfoy roughly on the shoulder.

“I’ll see you back in the common room,” Blaise says as he starts to make his way down the hallway. He stops halfway and turns around.

“Oh, and it was lovely to talk to you Granger,” he says arrogantly. I just stare at him and smile awkwardly in return. When he finally rounds the corner, Malfoy moans out loud into his hand.

“What the hell are you doing Granger?” Malfoy shouts placing both his hands on the top of either side of my shoulders.

“What do you mean? I was just heading back to the common room when I noticed your weirdo friend was following me?” I shout back. How dare he give out to me for something his friend did.

“Why are you out wandering around the castle at night by yourself?” he asks.

“I wanted to go and study for my ancient ruins test,” I admit sheepishly.

“And where the hell is Potter or weasel? Why didn’t you ask them to walk you back?” He berates me.

“_Because_ Malfoy I am seventeen years old. I don’t need a chaperone to walk me everywhere!” I shout back. He sighs loudly running his hand through his hair.

“Why don’t you tell your friend not to be following girls around at night like some sort of creep,” I say beratingly. Malfoy sighs.

“It wasn’t like that,” Malfoy mumbles.

“Hmm?”

“I don’t think he was following you for _that_ reason. I think he was testing me,” Malfoy admits, rubbing his temples. I watch as he lets his eyes close briefly, using his thumb to massage his pressure point above his cheekbone. The light coming in the windows makes his hair look almost white. He looks different with his eyes closed, younger. Such a strange act to do right now. It almost displays weakness and I can never imagine Malfoy allow himself to be in that kind of position in front of someone, let alone me.

“Zabini notices everything. It’s like one of his things. So, he’s noticed me watching you,” he admits. I blush a little at this, still unsure how to take this kind of honesty and openness between us. Every time we speak now it is like the first time as it still surprises me so much that genuine words coming out of his mouth are directed at me.

“I think he followed you tonight to see would I show up,” Malfoy says.

“Wait, were _you_ following me too?” I ask, incredulously.

“No, I was watching the party and I noticed you weren’t there anymore so I went looking for you,” Malfoy admits.

“Why?” I ask. He looks away for a moment out over the bridge as the wind rips through it outside. I pull my jacket close around myself, regretting wearing a dress that has fabric so thin. Between the silence, I notice Malfoy briefly look at my dress and heat rises to my neck. I don’t want to be under his scrutiny while I’m dressed like this.

But another thought enters my head. What must he think of me dressed like this when some of the best-looking girls in the school fawn over him? He might commend me for ‘making an effort’ at least. But I imagine not many women meet his expectations. What must be it be like to have a choice of anyone? Once they meet the correct criteria first.

“I don’t have to answer that,” Malfoy snaps.

“Fine,” I snap back raising my hands. I turn around and pull open the door to the bridge. Immediately when I’m outside I regret it. I want to turn back and go the long way back to the dormitories but I hate to admit defeat in front of Malfoy. So, I push on and once I’m out on the actual bridge the wind moves through me like a train.

“Granger what are you doing? You’re going to freeze to death out there,” Malfoy shouts from behind me. I turn a little to see him jogging after me.

“Better than standing there arguing with you,” I reply with my best Malfoy smirk. He notices and smirks back at me.

“So, you’d rather stand out here in the freezing cold and argue instead,” Malfoy says motioning around him sarcastically.

“I’m saying that I don’t want to argue with you at all when you refuse to answer any questions,” I sigh.

“I don’t have to answer your questions okay we have a deal, remember?” Malfoy explains.

“Malfoy!” I groan loudly as the cold rips through me. The dress is so thin it feels like I’m wrapped in clingfilm.

“What do you want from me?” I exclaim.

“What do _you_ want from _me_?” He replies.

“I want to go back to before I ever won that stupid award and things felt normal,” I admit, rubbing my arms up and down for warmth. Malfoy notices me and steps slightly in front of me blocking most of the wind. I step a little closer to him in an attempt to hide from it.

“You don’t think that I want that Granger?” Malfoy exclaims angrily his fringe falling in front of his eyes as he looks down at me.

“I would love to go back to how things were before. Before things got messy and shit. Believe me, I don’t want this as much as you do but things have changed now. We just have to deal with it,” He says. He grabs my arm and pulls me across the bridge to the other side. I pull open the door and practically jump inside into the warm.

I run-up to the nearest candle and swirl my fingertips above it trying to get some of the warmth back into them. When I turn around Malfoy is looking at me again. In the halo of orange light coming from the candles, he doesn’t look so scary or detrimental. This time I don’t shy away from his grey eyes.

“I am scared of what you know,” I admit, shocked even after the words find their way out.

“I am scared that this is all a joke to you. Some big ply to humiliate me in front of everyone and I don’t know why you haven’t done it already. I’m not sure why you’re trying to drag it out and be friendly towards me. I don’t understand why you’re acting like this. I don’t understand any of it Malfoy. _Nothing_!” I exclaim.

He weighs this up for a moment and half-smiles at me.

“You should be able to tell whether or not I’m being sincere, no?” Malfoy asks smugly.

“No? How could I possibly know that?” I ask. Malfoy smirks.

“I thought you said you could_ see through me_ so well?” he asks smirking one last time before he turns and heads down the hallway. I stand in the hallway rubbing the warmth back into my arms while I can't help feel like Malfoy won this argument and he knows it far too well. 


	5. The Door

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone.  
So this is the next chapter of the story I hope you enjoy it. I didn't get a lot of reviews for the last chapter so I'm guessing not a lot of people liked it. So please review this chapter and let me know if you're actually enjoying the story and the direction it's going. I would love to hear from you!  
Much love <3

**Hermione’s Point of View.**

I make my way back down the hallway feeling a little angry at Malfoy. But mostly I feel embarrassed that I allowed him to get to me so much. With just a few words he has a way of peeling back the layers to get right in at me. Like he has been given a handbook dedicated to how to make me angry.

I run over the conversation for the third time in my head trying to figure out at what point did he get the upper hand. I think and overthink it until I may as well be having it again with him. It seems that it’s always after a fight is finished you can always think of better things to say. I sigh loudly as I round the last corner before I reach the Gryffindor tower. To my disbelief, Ron is standing outside the painting waiting.

“Hermione,” he calls when he notices me. Something about the way he says my name makes me think he’s been waiting here for me.

“Where did you go?” He asks when I get closer to him.

“I just took a long way around is all,” I say rubbing my arms again. The hair is still standing up along my forearms from the cold in the castle.

“Here,” Ron says handing me his outer robe. I smile and take it wrapping it tightly around me. As soon as the warmth envelopes me I feel weary, most likely from the fight with Malfoy.

“Are you okay?” Ron asks accessing my face. I try to avert my eyes and construct my face into a better façade.

“Of course. I’m just a little tired,” I say, brushing it off. I motion towards the picture.

“Are you heading up to the dormitories?” I ask, suddenly a little confused about why he’s standing here alone.

“No, no. I just came to make sure you were okay,” Ron admits somewhat shyly, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck.

“Oh, okay. Well, I’m fine Ronald so you can head back if you want,” I suggest turning towards the picture.

“Hermione, can I ask you something?” Ron blurts out. I stop by the painting and feel a panic shoot up my back. There’s no way he can know about me and Malfoy’s deal, is there? Surely not.

“Sure, Ron. What is it?” I say slowly. He stands awkwardly for a moment. The silence between us builds.

“It’s just, I was wondering if it was a problem that we went together to the party tonight?” Ron asks. I sigh, glad it doesn’t involve anything to do with Malfoy. But that doesn’t mean the panic goes away completely.

“Why would there be a problem?” I ask, confused.

“I thought maybe you had wanted to go with someone else,” he says, nervously. I laugh equally anxious.

“No Ron of course not. Don’t be silly,” I say trying to ease the awkward tension between us. Ron visibly relaxes unhunching his shoulders.

“So, there’s no one else you’re seeing or anything?” He asks. I blush deeply.

“Ron, I don’t see anyone. When have you ever seen me with anyone?” I ask self-consciously. Ron has a strange look on his face when he answers.

“I suppose,” He answers. Ron looks at his feet as he kicks the corner of the wall.

“Okay well,” I start awkwardly.

“Yeah I’m going to head back to the party,” Ron says catching onto my suggestion.

“Okay,” I laugh nervously as Ron says his goodbyes and turns and leaves.

I wait until he disappears down the hallway to go into the common room. It’s devoid of any students and I’m grateful. I make my way up to the dormitory and climb up onto the bed. I pull my pillow up to my chest and bury my face into it.

The entire conversation with Ron has made me feel incredibly guilty about the whole situation with Malfoy. What would Ron do if he knew that I had agreed to something like that? That I had agreed when Malfoy – of all people – had asked me. I doubt Ron would be so forgiving or trusting of me after that. I contemplate all the possible things Malfoy could have seen in the Pensieve as I weight up whether it’s still worth it. Could all this lying to my friends be worth it when I am too scared to even ask Malfoy proper questions about my future?

What could Malfoy possibly be getting out of this arrangement? As I sit here on the bed thinking of everything, I realise I’ve been too easy with Malfoy. Too believing of his sudden change of heart towards me. Perhaps that’s what he wanted. To get me to believe that maybe he could be somewhat normal towards me. Get me to trust him just so he could make me do whatever he wanted all under the guise that I thought I was the one benefitting from it the most. When in reality he could just be really good at manipulation. Why would he not use this situation against me when it’s something he’s waited for years for. An opportunity to crush me that has just dropped into his hand.

When I’ve thought about it enough and feel stupider than I imagined possible for not seeing that Malfoy is using me, rage seems to take place in me. I smirk. I won’t be naïve anymore.

**Draco Malfoy’s Point of View**.

The next day I finally catch Blaise in the hallway walking towards potions. He didn’t come back to the dorms last night and that in itself tells me that he’s toying with me. I grab his shoulder and he shrugs me off.

“Going to potions?” He asks, motioning for me to follow him as if nothing has happened. I grab his arm again this time with more force. He jerks around almost dropping his books on the floor. He glares at me but then his face turns smug.

“Why, what’s wrong Draco?” He asks complacently. My blood starts to boil.

“What the fuck was that last night?” I ask, trying to keep my voice down. Blaise rolls his eyes and keeps walking. I sling my bag over my shoulder and follow beside him.

“I was testing something Malfoy,” Blaise says. I push my tongue against the back of my teeth to keep from causing a scene in the hallway.

“I need you to stay out of it, Blaise. It’s nothing to do with you,” I snap. He looks at me over his shoulder.

“Why are you suddenly so interested in Granger, huh?” he asks smartly. We walk into potions and I’m glad to see Granger isn’t at our table yet.

“That’s none of your business Blaise.”

“Has it something to do with her future?” He asks questioningly, setting his bag down on top of the work station.

“Look, I’m just fucking with her okay. Letting off some steam is all,” I say. Blaise eyes me suspiciously.

“And you didn’t think to let anyone else join in?” the tone of his voice causes sick to rise in my throat.

“This is my game, Blaise. I am the only player. Only I get to fuck with Granger,” I snap, speaking loud and precise so there’s no mistake between us. I throw my bag on top of the table. I eye the room to see if anyone has noticed how heated our conversation has become. The students are just starting to file in and thankfully Granger isn’t one of them yet.

“I didn’t realise it meant so much to you,” he says. I grab the elbow of Blaise robe and yank down on his arm.

“Listen, Blaise, I know you enjoy talking shit and pretending you’re someone. But don’t forget who is really in charge here. Don’t make something out of nothing,” I say, letting go off his robe as Granger enters the classroom with Potter and weasel not far behind her like lapdogs. Blaise turns as watches her talk with Potter at his work station.

Just as Granger reaches the table Blaise turns to me.

“Good to see the old Malfoy back,” he smirks and something about the smirk tells me that he doesn’t plan to just let this go. I roll my eyes as Granger sets her books down on top of the table. I look at her warily under the cover of my fringe but she doesn’t look at me.

In fact, for the next entire forty-five minutes of class, she doesn’t once look my way even when Slughorn addresses the class from behind me. She chooses to pretend she’s reading from the textbook instead. I try to convivence myself that this is not the place to make a scene or get angry because she’s choosing to be a moody bitch today. Especially when Blaise is too eager to watch our interactions. Weasel, on the other hand, is completely oblivious to anything going on at the table. I notice then that there is little conversation going on between them. Maybe she is willing to keep up her end of the deal after all even if she is being a bitch about it.

I slam the book down on the table gathering the attention of half the class.

“Mr Malfoy, is there something amiss?” Slughorn asks from the top of the class. I re-open the textbook to the page we’re supposed to be on.

“No, sir,” I say compliantly.

“Very well so,” Slughorn says turning his attention back to the rest of the class. I take a deep breath before I look up. But she’s already looking when our eyes meet. Searching mine with a furious passion burning behind her retina. A warm feeling tingles down my arms as I drink it in. What an expression to get out of her. I smirk and she rolls her eyes at me. For that second, I don’t give a fuck if Blaise notices the exchange between us.

When Slughorn dismisses the class, Granger grabs her bag and leaves the room promptly. I watch as she zips past the students. Blaise notices it too and watches me warily.

“Good luck with _that_ game,” he says laughing. When I enter the hallway, she’s nowhere in sight but it doesn’t bother me because I know where she will be tonight.

**Hermione’s Point of View**

Doing the rounds tonight has proved more of a hindrance than its usual distraction from everyday life. It’s too cold in the castle to even think clearly enough to sort any of the thoughts out that are swirling around my head making me dizzy. Warily, I make my way around the usual prefect route to check for students out past curfew. Even for me, there is an understanding that 7th years have more of leniency than the other years so I don’t bust a couple I find behind the greenhouse. Other than that, the hallways are unusually quiet for a Thursday night.

When I enter the classroom, McGonagall is sorting through papers at her desk.

“Ah Miss Granger, just in time. I was wondering could you help me with these,” she asks handing me a stack of parchment.

“Of course,” I say taking the bundle from her hand. I sit at the front desk and file through them noticing they seem to be a test given to the first years today.

“What would you like me to do?” I ask.

“Just correct them for me, dear, if you wouldn’t mind. The pile on my desk has seemed to double since yesterday and I don’t want to be here all night,” Professor McGonagall laughs. I smile back at her and take my quill out of my bag.

“No problem,” I say more than eager to help. I make my way through the pile a little quicker than she does and clearly enjoying it a lot more than she is. When I’m finished, I sort them alphabetically and leave them on top of her corrected pile.

“Well that was a lot faster than I expected, Miss Granger,” she says with a small smile. I laugh nervously waving my hand at her.

“It was no problem at all. I quite enjoyed it,” I admit sheepishly. She lets her glasses fall down her nose at me.

“Do you think you’ll ever pursue a career in teaching?” she asks suddenly. I’m not sure how to answer her. I have always tried hard in school because I enjoyed it but I haven’t thought too much about what I want to do when I leave Hogwarts. It has always seemed with what is going on that maybe there might not be a world left after Hogwarts.

“I’m not too sure,” I admit. She watches me carefully.

“I know it can be hard to look towards the future sometimes with everything that’s going on outside these walls Hermione. But sometimes the future is all we have to hold onto, don’t you think?” she asks.

“Sometimes it’s hard to _imagine_ what could happen in the future,” I laugh, somewhat hinting at the situation with Malfoy. McGonagall picks up on my hint quickly.

“I don’t believe him to be a bad person,” she states unexpectedly. McGonagall takes off her glasses and encloses them in her case.

“I’m not supposed to discuss other students with a student but I think given the circumstances a little leeway is allowed,” McGonagall admits.

“I cannot say that I share your opinion,” I say soberly, thinking of everything that has happened between me and Malfoy so far.

“I can say that I have watched him grow up differently to the way you have, and I can safely say that I do not think he is the same spoilt child he was when he first came here,” McGonagall says.

“I think time has weathered the boy, in a good way,” she says. I smile curtly a little unsure.

“I guess as you said, I know him in a different way to you,” I confess shyly. It feels weird to talk about Malfoy with someone when I have only considered him so far as a sort of secret. Never to be spoken aloud about especially to my friends. But talking about him now with Professor McGonagall – of all people- feels slightly refreshing. Like taking a weight off of my shoulders.

“I suppose you’re quite right dear,” McGonagall states as she stands from her table and starts to pack up her bag for the night. I exhale the weight of the deal we have made together trying to put it out of my mind.

“Are you okay to finish up here?” She asks when she’s finished packing. I nod happily at her as she puts on her robe.

I take out the tutoring forms from their holders and start to go through them as she makes her way to the door. She catches the door in her hand and calls to me.

“Just remember Miss Granger, that a person’s character is measured in their _choices_ and _decisions_. Not their words.” She smiles her usual sweet smile before leaving the room.

**Draco Malfoys Point of View**

I push past some stupid prefect from Hufflepuff trying to write me up on the third floor. When he realises who I am he thinks differently of his decision. I smirk and jog down the staircases, jumping onto the moving one that will bring me to the ground floor. When it comes to a stop McGonagall is standing waiting for it.

“Mr Malfoy? What are you doing out of your dorm this late at night?” She enquires, with a stiff hand on her hip.

“I was just-“

“Do you have a pass from a prefect to be out roaming the hallways this late?” I kick at the heel of my shoe and laugh awkwardly.

“I forgot a book earlier in potions and I need it to finish an assignment so I’m just going to fetch it,” I admit.

“You’re in Slughorn’s potions class?” she asks.

“Yes Miss,” I say.

“Isn’t that in the complete other direction near the bridge?” she asks raising her eyebrow at me.

“Yeah,” I start pointing in that direction. McGonagall steps onto the stairs.

“Mr Malfoy, I don’t have all night to stand here and listen to you fumble over your words. Just get the book and go back to your dormitory at once,” she orders. I nod and watch as the stairs carry her away thinking I see a small smile in the corner of her mouth.

I sigh when she’s out of sight and make my way down to her classroom. I practically pull the door off its hinges. Granger jumps from her seat when I enter the room and presses a hand to her heart.

“Malfoy! You nearly gave me a heart attack. What are you doing here?” she asks, turning her attention momentarily back to the bundle of papers in front of her. She looks so much different in this light cast by the candlelight. It casts a warm glow over her pale skin. She looks brighter, more awake in this light.

“It’s Thursday night,” I say extending my arms theatrically. She sighs and rolls her eyes at me.

“I don’t want to do this right now,” she grunts looking back at her piece of parchment.

“Well tough love Granger. This is the day we agreed on,” I state. I move towards her and lean against McGonagall’s table right in her view.

“Look Malfoy I don’t want to do this with you anymore,” she admits finally turning her attention to me.

“You are in a mood today, aren’t you?” I note. She furrows her brows and scowls at me.

“What’s that suppose to mean?” She asks.

“Today in Slughorn’s you wouldn’t even look at me?” I say accusingly. She eyes me closely.

“Am I suppose too, Malfoy?” she asks questioningly, her voice getting higher at the end. I run my tongue over my teeth and chuckle a little at her come back. This game is similar to the one I play with Blaise. We both know the game is happening but it’s hard to tell at times who is winning and who is losing or what is really being said.

When I don’t answer she angrily shuffles the pieces of parchment together and stands.

“I said I don’t want to do this with you right now. Can you please just leave?” She asks, tacking the parchment back up on the wall.

“Now is all that I have,” I say folding my arms smugly.

“Oh, and of course we must do everything on your clock, Malfoy. There’s a surprise!” She shouts her voice getting louder the more she talks. I push away from the table and stand beside her near the wall. When I get too close, she puts out her arm to stop me, letting it rest on my chest. She quickly removes it.

“Why are you being such a bitch today,” I shout back at her, now equally as angry as she is. Her eyes seem to double in size in her sockets. I try to hold back a smile at this reaction.

“Don’t you dare speak to me like that,” she says pushing against my chest but I grab her forearms and hold her there. She stares at me confused as I move my arms up to hold her around her elbows.

“Malfoy what are you doing?” She asks eyeing my hands on her.

“Tell me why you’re so angry today and I’ll let go of you,” I assure her. She relaxes in my grip a little so I loosen my hands until she is just standing there staring at me and I am just holding her still.

“I don’t want to be a part of this anymore,” she says honestly. My hands tighten a little at her words and the crease in her forehead tells me she noticed.

“Why?” I ask. “We had a deal,” I say. She looks around the room warily and I feel the muscles in her arms tense slightly.

“I don’t want to be made a fool out of Malfoy. I don’t trust you so I can’t continue doing this with you. It’s not worth it for whatever you have planned.” She says.

I laugh at her statement and she shakes herself loose from my grip. But I grab her wrist before she can run too far. I pull her back around to face me and her face is flushed red. The smell of her shampoo hits me and I take a second to clear my thoughts.

“Don’t you think I would have done something by now?” I ask with a smirk. She searches my face narrowly.

“That’s the thing Malfoy, I don’t know! Because I don’t know _anything_! You haven’t told me anything besides stay away from Ron. That’s it. That’s all I know!” She shouts. I run my hand through my hair as her face turns even redder as she gears herself up.

“How can I just play along with something like this when you refuse to even tell me why!” She bellows.

“That was part of the deal Granger. I don’t have to tell you why,” I argue. She tries to pull her wrist away but I keep my grip tight. I don’t want her running away just yet. Her eyes turn a darker shade.

“Then that’s my question for today,” she retaliates with a raised eyebrow.

“Don’t pull this shit with me,” I shout.

“Oh, do you not like it when things don’t go your way, Malfoy?” she barks back at me raising both her eyebrows smugly.

“You have such a smart mouth, don’t you?” I look down at her lips momentarily and notice how full they are when she’s pouting angrily at me. She notices too and averts her eyes. My hand feels awful clammy around her wrist all of a sudden.

“That’s it, Malfoy. Either you tell me why or I’m gone,” She states her tone final.

“Your question can only be about _your_ future,” I state again. She groans loudly.

“You’re insufferable! Fine! What did you see in my future that would give you a reason to ask me to stay away from Ron,” she yells.

“Happy now? Did I phrase it correctly enough?” she asks. My hand drops away from her wrist in a panic. Because she has beaten me this time. I hadn’t thought of her taking this angle and I had sworn I would be honest as I could be if she asked certain questions. I just never thought she would ask this one. I move away from her and run my hand through my hair nervously.

“Malfoy answer my question,” she demands, pushing at my shoulder. I lean against a table and stare at the floor for a second trying to think. When I finally look at her, my expression must not be as I had imagined because she seems to jerk away from me.

“I saw you die, Granger,” I say slowly watching her face change and contort.

“And what, you thought you’d just make this decision on your own without telling me!” She shouts incredulously.

“I made a _choice_!” I scream back at her standing up from the table, pushed forward by my rage. How _dare_ she be angry at me for something like this. How dare she be angry at me for trying to stop her from dying a horrific death.

Suddenly a kind of airy looks takes over her disposition. She doesn’t look angry or worried anymore. Warmed by the glow of the candlelight she looks more like the girl I saw in the first future. The women who seemed so sure of herself and I can see now how easily she could grow into that person. She is there inside her right now.

Granger picks up her stuff and heads for the door flicking her hair over her shoulder as she turns, a strange smile on her face.

“Why are you smiling like that?” I ask.

“Just something McGonagall said,” she laughs a little. I stare at her in confusion.

“So, you’re just going to leave? You’re not even going to ask me anything else about what I just told you?” I shout at her back as she starts to head up to the top of the classroom. I follow her and grab her before she can leave. This time though she doesn’t even try to pull away. When our eyes meet my hand slides down from her wrist and two fingers shift into the warmth of the centre of her palm. I still my hand nervously but she doesn’t react physically. Instead, she smiles at me.

“I do have one question,” she admits with the tilt of her head. Her eyes flutter back up to mine and the intensity of her gaze makes me even more nervous than before. How can someone I’ve known for so many years have this kind of effect on me all of a sudden?

“Do you care, Malfoy?” she asks smartly.

“_Care?_” I ask nervously.

“Whether I live or die?” she replies.

I step back and purse my lips together, averting my eyes. Slowly she seems to follow my eyes, searching my face as I bow my head to rub my hand over the hair on the back of my neck. I feel swollen and empty at the same time. The words on the tip of my tongue stay there.

She nods and turns to catch the door.

“Granger,” I say but she waves her hand at me.

“It’s okay,” she says with a small flush in her cheeks. “I already know,” she admits. She watches me as she catches the door and starts to pull it closed after her but she stops, eying the door and then me. She removes her hand from the handle and leaves the door open. With one last knowing look, she leaves.

The door remains open and I know that it is not the only door that has been suddenly opened.


	6. A Lie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!!  
I would first like to thank everyone who reviewed the last chapter. I got such a heartwarming response to and it honestly was so lovely to receive your support.   
A lot of you commented on my interactions and transitions between interactions and I'm glad you like my style because I was worried I was messing them up sometimes haha!  
I know this chapter is a little early since I just posted like a day ago but I couldn't help myself as I really enjoyed writing this chapter and wanted to post it as soon as I could.   
Let me know what you think as always.   
Much love <3

**Hermione’s Point of View**

I want to say that the conversation between us last night didn’t change anything. But that would be a lie. I feel the weight of it in my chest now more than ever. It’s heavy and seems to pull down on my ribs. I think of Harry and Ron and what they would say if they found out that we were even talking to one another. I think of all the moments Harry, Ron and I have shared together and all the times they have been there for me in the past. How small I am making those cherished moments by meeting with Malfoy behind their backs.

What does it say about me as a person that I’m willing to keep this a secret from Harry? A secret that involves someone that he truly believes is against us and our cause. I can empathise Harry’s point of view but I am not as easy to believe that Malfoy is what Harry believes him to be. A bad child does not always grow into a bad man. But then again neither does a good child.

I try to imagine a situation where I tell Harry or Ron what’s been going on but it seems more like fiction than fact. To actually imagine me arguing on Malfoy’s side when he has never done anything to prove to them that he is who I think he is. It would be a lost cause, a waste of breath I could imagine Harry saying. We are so very similar - the three of us- and I can understand that’s why we’re such good friends but we all see the world differently now that we’ve grown. We each see a different shade of it and I worry sometimes that the shades are far too different now.

“Are you okay, Hermione?” Ginny asks setting the butterbeer down on the table. The crowd in the pub is insane right now with this trip to Hogesmeade’s also being the third years first visit.

“Please don’t tell me we were that annoying in third year?” Ginny asks eyeing them trying to get served at the bar. Madam Rosemerta is clearly out of her depth with the number of people currently in the pub. I laugh loudly and ginny follows suit.

“I think we might have been worse,” I admit sheepishly to which Ginny cringes.

“I think you’re right,” she admits putting her head in her hands. She swipes her hair back into a high ponytail and sips on her butterbeer, leaving a foam moustache as she drops the glass back down. I slip back into my daze and Ginny immediately notices. I’ve been too distracted all day to remember to act a certain way around people.

“Hermione,” Ginny calls. “Tell me what’s on your mind,” she says soothingly, leaning in close to be heard over the chaos in the bar.

In a way, I want to tell her about it. To finally be able to talk properly about it with someone so the thoughts in my head have an actual outlet. To be free of the burden of not knowing what to do all of the time.

“Is it about Ron?” she says quietly to me. But I doubt anyone is going to hear anything in this chaos.

“No Ginny it’s not about Ron,” I admit. Ginny’s face twists a little and I see a hint of sadness there. The same one I saw on Ron’s face the other night. I sigh because I know that’s what she wanted to hear, that I was thinking about Ron in _that_ way but I can’t tell her that because it wouldn’t be true. Not anymore at least, not since all of this started. The heat flushes to my cheeks because I don’t often allow that thought to the forefront of my mind.

“But it _is_ about a guy?” Ginny asks, noticing how red my cheeks have gone. I wish deeply that I wasn’t easily read sometimes. It would be so much easier to lie that way.

I turn and look at her light green eyes looking so trustingly into mine. She doesn’t look upset anymore. Maybe it’s the buzz of the room or something in the butterbeer that causes me to nod slowly in response. Ginny looks as shocked as I am by my honesty. She leans back clearly unsure what to do with herself and the direction the conversation is going. But she turns and smiles reassuringly back at me.

“Do you want me to pretend?” she starts and I scrunch my eyebrows together in confusion.

“Pretend?” I swallow nervously. She fingers the hair by my ear and tucks it behind with a motherly touch.

“That I don’t know who _he_ is,” she answers. I look at her knowing eyes and I can tell she does know it’s Malfoy. I am glad to see they are not judgemental nor angry and something in that sentiment tells me that I should be more trusting of Ginny.

I nod embarrassingly back at her. Ginny smiles anxiously at me as the air around us becomes a little heated. Having admitted it -without actually admitting it- makes my skin crawl and blood boil. I want to grab the words from the air one by one, pluck them from her thoughts and claim them back as my own before this escalates. But I know it’s only fear talking. I can’t continue holding everything in or I might snap and then I would really have to explain what was going on. At least here I can do it on my own terms, in a public place where Ginny can’t really cause a scene. I _hope_.

“Okay,” Ginny says. “So talk,” she starts. I chose this moment to take a deep chug of my butterbeer and Ginny laughs lightening the mood considerably.

“Has something happened between the two of you?” she asks with a raised eyebrow.

“No, it’s _nothing_ like that.”

“Then how do you know that things aren’t the same as they’ve always been?” she asks.

“I can just feel that things are different between us now,” I admit sheepishly. Ginny acknowledges this taking another swing of her own drink. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Do you want things to be different between the two of you?” she asks.

“I’m not really sure,” I admit honestly.

“You know how Harry feels about him,” she says seriously. I nod curtly. Of course, I know how Harry feels. He talked about it non-stop on the train here. Back then I was happy to watch the scenery pass us by and nod at the appropriate times because Harry was in one of his moods and Ron and I knew to just let him rant until it was over. Things are different now.

“And you think he notices this change too?”

“I think so,” I say.

“How can you tell?” she asks confused. “I’ve never thought of him as a person to really show any sort of emotions,” Ginny laughs further proving to me that we are in fact talking about the same person. I laugh uneasily.

“It was something he said last night,” I confess.

“Last night!” Ginny shouts. I grab her hands away from cupping her mouth as a few nosey heads turn our way.

“Keep your voice down Ginny I don’t want the whole school to know,” I warn her. She apologises profusely.

“You were with him last night? _Where_? _How_?” Ginny asks her voice falling over itself to get the questions out. I encourage her to calm down as I take a sip of my drink. She copies me but I can see the questions behind her excited eyes.

“I was helping Professor McGonagal like I usually do on Tuesday and Thursdays after my Prefect rounds and he has a habit of showing up _sometimes_,” I admit watching her process this information. Her eyes growing bigger with each word.

“_He_ shows up!” Ginny exclaims. “As in _he_ seeks _you_ out? Oh, this is worse than I thought,” Ginny says hiding a smile behind her glass.

“Ginny please, try and contain yourself,” I beg unable to stop the constant flow of blood to my cheeks.

“I’m sorry Hermione I just never in a million years would have thought that you and he could possibly-“

“Look I never said anything happened,” I interject.

“_Yet_,” Ginny adds under her breath. I scowl at her but she smiles playfully back at me. Her face suddenly turns a shade darker.

“Do you not still think he might be the same underneath? That he could just be pretending?” Ginny asks as I knew she would.

“I did but he has done enough now that I believe that he isn’t trying to hurt me,” I say.

“I think maybe we have an understanding now,” I add. Ginny's face turns a little red in return.

“What are you thinking about now?” I ask, unsure if I really want to know.

“You know how I feel about him,” she starts and I beckon for her to continue.

“But God damn Hermione, he is _handsome_,” she says breaking out into laughter. I flush deeper than I thought possible.

“Ginny!” I scowl, covering my mouth.

“Come on don’t tell me you don’t agree,” she pushes.

“No! We are not talking about that,” I warn her.

“Come on I just want to hear you say it,” she says prodding at my side. I burst into laughter with her. When I’m out of breath I finish off the last of my beer and smile at her.

A loud, rattling door cuts through the noise of the pub as Malfoy walks out of the bathrooms. Through the hustle of bodies, I see his pale skin stand out against the reddish light of the candles. He looks out of place in contrast to the excitement palpable from the third years crowding the bar. Like a lost child in a shopping centre. His eyes search the room before finding mine. The jubilance of the third years is no longer the only palpable feeling in the air. I watch him intently, noticing how different his face looks. He looks concentrated as he breaks eye contact and leaves the pub.

“Oh my God,” Ginny says astonished beside me. She turns to me eagerly.

“What?” I ask, concerned.

“You’re serious aren’t you?” she asks incredibly. I avert my eyes.

“What you thought I’d just make it up?” I ask a little hurt.

“No of course not. But I guess I didn’t one hundred per cent believe you until this moment. Until I saw the way he just looked at you,” Ginny gushes.

“That was intense,” she adds. I stare at the door he just left through and wonder what he’s even doing here. I don’t remember seeing his name on the sheet of students who would be leaving the castle today.

“He can be that way sometimes,” I say. Ginny shakes her head in disbelief.

“How can this thing between the two of you even work?” Ginny asks seriously.

“Work? Look I’m not saying anything like that Ginny. I am just saying that things are different between us now is all. I’m not saying anything is suddenly going to change. He is still the Slytherin King and I am still just me. I haven’t even thought about it like that,” I ramble trying to calm Ginny’s racing mind.

“His father Hermione-“

“Ginny please,” I warn. Ginny raises her hands in defence.

“Okay! Okay, I’m sorry,” Ginny apologises. I grab my stuff from the table.

“Come on, let's go get the boys,” I say, grabbing my jacket.

Ginny gathers her stuff as we make our way out the door. Katie Bell pushes past us slamming the door against the wall as the winter air assaults us.

“What’s her deal?” Ginny asks taking my gloves from her pocket. She hands them to me and I slip them on trying to rub the warmth back into my fingertips.

“Must be in a hurry,” I comment.

“Train back doesn’t leave for another thirty minutes,” Ginny says.

Outside Ginny waves to Harry and Ron who make their way over to us.

“Are you going to tell them?” Ginny whispers into my scarf. I glare at her as Ron and Harry arrive.

“What were ye guys up too?” Ron asks throwing his arm over Ginny's shoulders.

“Just at the three broomsticks having a butterbeer. Where did you two go?”

“We just went to Ceridwen’s because Ron had to get a new cauldron,” Harry says pointing to the plastic bag Ron carries.

“Again?” Ginny notes. Ron squeezes his arm around her neck and her face disappears into her scarf as she bats his arm away.

“I misplaced my last one,” Ron says innocently.

“Hmm,” Harry notes. I link my arm through Harry’s as we make our way up the steep and slippery hill. Ron slips several times using the stone wall as a makeshift crutch most of the way aided by Ginny pushing him.

I hear the sound of a small shout slice it’s way through the winter air. When I look up towards the top of the hill I see Katie Bell arguing with her friend Leanne. I walk a few steps ahead of the group.

“What do you suppose they’re fighting about?” Harry calls to me.

“Maybe it’s about a boy or something,” Ginny adds pulling Ron along.

All of a sudden Leanne grabs a box out of Katie’s hand and she counters. Leanne’s hand grips the edge of the box but slips and with the force, Katie drops the box. It hits the snow and bursts open, throwing out an old-fashioned necklace onto the snow. It slides down the hill in front of me with some parchment paper on top. I pull on the wrist of my gloves to sink my fingers further into the glove finger holes as I pick up the necklace for Katie.

There is a scream in the distance somewhere as I feel the snow envelop me, turning everything white.

**Three weeks later. **

I wake to a crystal white light coming in the slanted windows of the infirmary. Madame Pomfrey’s hand rests on top of my forehead and I can hear the sound of her soothing voice speaking to someone in the background I can’t yet see. I want to wake up and raise my hand or speak but I can’t right away. Slowly as if my body is stuck in cement each part begins to break free, waking up.

When I speak it isn’t words but more of a croaking sound, like that of an owl. A second weight joins the bed and some darkness blocks out the light from the window.

“Hermione,” the voice calls.

“It’s me, Ginny! Can you open your eyes?” Ginny asks. I don’t exactly know what she means at first but then I feel a finger on my eyelids pulling them up slightly followed by a smacking noise.

“Don’t do that. She has to wake up on her own dear,” Madame Pomfrey chastises Ginny.

“I want to talk to my friend,” Ginny argues. “She’s been waking up on and off for two days now. I’m just trying to help her,” Ginny defends herself. Have I? This is the only memory I have of waking up in the infirmary. When I groan again Madam Pomfrey steps up from the bed.

“I’ll go and get something for her throat. I imagine the poor thing is as dry as anything,” she says. When I hear her footsteps leave the room Ginny leans in close.

“Please wake up Hermione I can’t stand being alone with Pomfrey anymore,” Ginny begs. I force my eyes open and the light blinds me. Ginny takes out her wand and mutters a spell filtering the light coming into the room.

“Thank you,” I manage to croak out. I smell Ginny’s hair as she throws herself down on top of me, knocking the wind out of me.

“Oh, Hermione I’m so glad you’re okay. I was so worried,” Ginny gushes.

“What’s going on?” I ask, trying to sit up in the bed but my arms feel too weak to push myself into an upright position. Ginny notices and slips her arms under mine and helps me up. The second I move my head starts spinning.

“Do you remember anything that happened?” Ginny asks.

“I remember being at Hogesmead with you,” I answer and Ginny smiles.

“That’s good. That’s where we were when it happened,” Ginny tells me.

“When what happened?”

“You touched the necklace that Katie Bell had. Do you remember that?” she asks. I think back but it’s incredibly blurry but I remember the coldness of that day and the steep hill back to the train station.

“Vaguely,” I blush.

“That’s okay. Madame Pomfrey said you might experience some memory loss,” Ginny says.

“How long have I been here?” I ask.

“Just over three weeks,” Ginny says, searching my face worriedly.

“Three weeks!” I exclaim but the loudness of my own voice causes waves of pain to roll through my head. I groan loudly and Ginny hands me a glass of water from the side of the bed. It tastes really stale.

“What happened?” I ask desperately when Ginny takes the glass back from me. She turns her attention towards the door as she looks for Madam Pomfrey. She leans in close to me.

“Hermione so much has happened while you were unwell. The necklace you touched was bewitched and you could have died. It was a miracle you didn’t. The only reason you’re okay right now is that you didn’t touch it with your bare skin. You had gloves on. Do you remember touching it?”

I shake my head. I don’t really remember the necklace that well. The more I think of it the more I remember noticing the contrast between Katie Bells dark hair and the snow.

“Where are Harry and Ron?” I ask, worried.

“They’re fine they were here actually, only an hour ago but they had to go. There is a match against Ravenclaw today but I wouldn’t bet on them winning. Everyone has been in such a horrible mood while you’ve been gone,” Ginny admits sadly.

“Ginny, why was the necklace bewitched? What was Katie Bell doing with a necklace like that?” I ask confused. A small part of me is starting to think that I might still be unconscious and this could all just be a dream. Ginny eyes the door again nervously.

“She was under the Imperius Curse,” Ginny whispers.

“What?” I ask, sceptical. “That doesn’t make any sense Ginny,” I add.

“That’s not the worse part,” Ginny mentions. I rub my hand over my forehead and reach across for the glass of water again. Ginny hands it to me as she continues.

“There was a pretty serious meeting about it. Harry was there,” Ginny confesses.

“Why was Harry there? Did he touch the necklace too or something?” I ask, unsure.

“No but he thinks he knows who cursed Katie Bell,” Ginny says and something in the sound of her voice makes my head spin even more.

“Ginny,” I warn.

“I’m sorry Hermione but you know how Harry is about Malfoy. He’s convinced that he’s a Death Eater now. I was there when he said it to Professor McGonagall and it was brutal.”

“Harry accused him of being a Death Eater and cursing Katie Bell in front of Professor McGonagall?” I question horrified.

“And Dumbledore and Snape,” Ginny adds embarrassed.

Madam Pomfrey comes back into the room but a second year on the bed closest to the door calls to her. She assures me she’ll be back to me in just a moment. Ginny turns back to me.

“Look Hermione I was there for it all and it’s not looking good for Malfoy,” Ginny rushes before Madam Pomfrey can come back.

“What do you mean, Ginny? He’s _not_ a death eater!” I warn. Ginny tilts her head at me as her eyes turn sombre.

“Hermione I’m sorry. You know I love you dearly but-“

“But nothing,” I argue.

“Hermione we saw him at the three broomsticks. He came out of the bathroom and that’s where Katie Bell said she found the necklace.” Ginny informs me.

“Did you tell Harry that?” I ask.

“No,” she replies. “I didn’t tell anyone what we saw.”

“But Hermione I can’t pretend like that isn’t damming evidence,” Ginny says.

I weigh this information up in my head and I can’t be angry at her because the evidence is quite damming. I brush my greasy fringe off my forehead as the sweat breaks out on my back.

“It’s damming evidence Hermione but it’s not concrete,” Ginny starts. “I got something for you,” she says handing me a small piece of parchment folded over twice. I open it and read a small spell of the parchment.

“What’s this?” I ask confused by it.

“I went to the forbidden section of the library and I found this spell that breaks dark magic glamour charms. It took me a long time to find it but I assumed-“

“You assumed if Malfoy did have the mark that this spell would break the charm hiding it?” I finish for her.

“You’re the only person who can get close enough to him to actually use it and see if he is hiding the dark mark,” Ginny states.

I look up at her eager face and a wave of nausea rolls over me.

“Ginny I really don’t think he has it,” I argue.

“You’ve never been the kind of girl who settled for maybe, Hermione. Don’t you want to know for sure?” she asks.

“And what then?” I ask incredulously. “What do I do if it is there?” I say running my hands through my roots, pulling at the hair in clumps. She puts a reassuring hand on my back and moves it in soothing circles. Ginny’s face scrunches up in thought.

“I guess you’ll finally know for sure what kind of person he truly is.”

“Madam Pomfrey isn’t going to realise you for a few more days so you have some time to think about it,” Ginny says as Madam Pomfrey makes her way back over to my bed.

“Now that’s enough talking for today Miss Weasley. Please run along back to your class while Miss Granger here recovers.” Madam Pomfrey excuses Ginny as she picks up her bag reluctantly and leaves the infirmary with a sad wave over her shoulder at me. I smile as best I can.

It’s the following Thursday before Madam Pomfrey finally lets me leave the infirmary. I suppose it's not all too terrible because most of the Gryffindor common room decide to congregate around my bed when school finishes most days. But the constant potions and ointments are a part of it I won’t miss. Madam Pomfrey had said that the necklace destroyed a lot of nerves in my right arm and they had to be restored before I was fit enough to leave or use it efficiently again. By the fifth bubbling potion, I was ready to lose the arm for good though.

Ginny picks up my bag from the press and opens it, shoving in my books that I’ve used to catch up on the assignments I’ve missed over the last three weeks. I wrap a warm scarf around my neck that Harry and Ron got me in Hogesmead for Christmas. I thank Ginny as she carries my stuff out the door for me. I thank Madam Pomfrey out of politeness because I’m still a little sour over the whole having to drink horrible potions situation. Perhaps some time apart will strengthen our relationship back to its former state.

“How are you feeling?” Ginny asks as we make our way through the empty hallways. It’s late, almost ten pm and the early January light still disappears far too quickly.

“A little light-headed,” I admit. “Like I’m floating through the hallways,” I say. Ginny laughs nervously sliding her arm through mine.

“Okay then I’ll make sure to hold onto you tight,” Ginny giggles. I squeeze my arm in hers resting a little weight on her. We walk in silence down the hallway for a minute.

“Have you thought about what I said?” She asks. I bite the corner of my lip and nod.

“And?”

“I will do it,” I admit sadly.

Weighing it over in my head the last few days have been torturous. I know what Ginny has told me is the truth and that it makes sense but it’s hard to imagine the boy I verbally spar with sometimes could be capable of bewitching Katie Bell and using one of the forbidden curses. It’s just too much, too different shades of the same person where one is black and the other is white. But I know Ginny is right. I cannot stay in the grey area and just assume the best when the evidence against him is mounting. I swallow.

“When are you going to see him again?” Ginny asks.

“What day is it?” I ask.

“Thursday.”

“I’m going to go now,” I announce, taking my bag from her shoulder.

“Woah- Hermione. I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” Ginny warns. “You’re still very weak from all the potions,” Ginny reminds me. I brush off her concern turning to face her. I purse my lips together.

“I have to know, Ginny. I need to know if I’ve just been making a huge fool of myself,” I admit. Ginny seems to accept this explanation reluctantly.

“I understand that but maybe wait until tomorrow or something at least. Harry and Ron are waiting in the common room for you,” Ginny face turns red as she rubs at her cheeks nervously.

“They kind of have a welcome back get together planned,” Ginny confesses. I blush with her unsure of how to process this.

“Oh,” I say.

“Yeah. They’re waiting now and I can’t really go in without you.”

“I won’t be long, Ginny I promise,” I assure her.

“Hermione, please. Reconsider this.” Ginny pleads. I shake my head at her and I can tell by her facial expression that she’s going to let me go.

“I’ll be half an hour at most. I promise,” I say turning right at the crossroads. Ginny stands in the glow of the moonlight and watches me walk away.

“I’ll be there for when-“ I know by the tone of her voice that she doesn’t expect this conversation to go well. Perhaps the outcome is already pretty obvious given what’s just happened but I need to know for certain. I have to be sure that he is who everyone seems to believe him to be.

“-you get back,” Ginny adds embarrassed. I smile back at her half-heartedly as I make my way around the corner and towards McGonagall’s classroom.

**Draco Malfoy’s Point of View**

I watch as the younger weasel enters the Gryfindor common room alone. I watch after her confused, staring at the painting long after it’s closed. I was sure I had overheard in the stands today at the Quiddich match that Granger was getting released from the infirmary today. I turn on my heel and make my way up to the fourth floor.

When I scan the windows into the infirmary I can see all the beds are empty except one by the window where a third-year is lying on their side. Most likely the Ravenclaw who got hit in the head with the bludger today during the match. I wait a few minutes keeping my eye on the room to make sure Granger isn’t in the bathroom or anything but no one comes in or out of it. She’s not here.

I take off running down the hallway to the interchanging stairs as I make my way down to the bottom floor. It’s late and I imagine McGonagall isn’t in her classroom and if my suspicions are right Granger should be there. Something about the idea of her being there and going there first before she even went back to the common room excites something inside me.

It’s been almost a month since we’ve spoken and the guilt has torn apart my mind during the course of that time. I wanted to kill Katie Bell for what happened but I know it wasn’t exactly her fault either. I know it’s mine and that’s what kills me. I had warned her away from Weasel for the exact same reason and then I nearly kill her myself. Why hadn’t I seen that in her future? Then maybe I could have actually done something about it or warned her not to go to Hogsmeade that day. Actually I had assumed she wouldn’t go that day because she usually doesn’t bother going to Hogsmeade. I guess my assumption was my mistake. But it wasn’t my only and I doubt my last.

I stop outside the door and place my ear close to the keyhole to try and see can I hear any movement inside but it sounds empty. I stand and pull the door open slowly afraid that if she isn’t standing there waiting for me then she must know. Maybe she’s already figured it out.

When I enter the room Granger is waiting by the back wall staring out the long floor-length windows. Half of the candles in the room are out and it’s hard to make out her shape standing all the way at the back shrouded in the darkness.

“Granger?” I call. She turns confirming that it is her but she doesn’t move or address me. When I get closer to her I notice she’s standing with her arms crossed in front of her. I make my way down to the back of the room and stand beside her, feeling some of the cold wind that has found its way into the room through the cracks in the stone walls. I look over at her but she’s still looking out the window. The moonlight illuminates her face and I notice how skinny her face has gotten. In fact her entire frame looks smaller, weaker. She looks incredible frail and breakable. Why the hell did Madam Pomfrey release her when she still looks so sick? But I can’t imagine Granger actively wanting to stay in bed and miss school.

“Granger?” I call again but she continues to ignore me. I turn my attention out the window and squeeze my hand into a tight fist. When I first heard what happened I refused to leave the dormitory for an entire day until I realised my actions were being watched. I then had to let my father know that my attempt at the mission had failed and I would have to find another way. He said it hadn’t failed entirely as I almost killed the mudblood. I remember staring at the letter for almost two hours by the glow of the fireplace in the common room. Eventually I threw it into the fire.

I look at her now and wonder what would have happened if she had actually died that day in Hogsmeade. What I would have done knowing it was my fault? How I would have had to act around my peers and Master when they congratulated me. How I would have had to smile and act proud to those who knew that it had been me. I push down a wave of nausea. Mostly when I look at her sorrow-filled eyes I wonder is the door still open. Or had I closed it myself that day when the snow was especially heavy.

“Granger, Goddammit! Say something,” I demand unable to hear my own thoughts anymore. She turns as if realising I’m here. Her face looks so listless and sunken. I open my mouth to speak but nothing comes out when she’s looking at me like that.

“Are you okay?” I ask, my hand moving out to touch her wrist. She steps away. I let my hand drop back down.

“No,” she answers after a beat. She turns back to the window.

“Granger. Say something,” I say, more softly this time. She turns back to me again and I almost wish she hadn’t because each time she looks at me the direct result of my fuck up is clear in her eyes. I drop my head and run my hand over the back of my neck nervously. When I look at her again she reaches out and takes my wrist from hanging at my side. She rolls up my sleeve to my elbow and looks at my forearm. I look back up at her and watch her exam my arm. Of course she can’t see it though. Only those who have it can see it with the charm. I watch as her finger runs over the mark that’s only visible to me. A pain starts strong behind my left eye.

“People said a lot of different things to me when I woke up in that infirmary,” she starts. “I don’t really remember what happened that day with Katie Bell. Madam Pomfrey said it might or might not come back to me over time. But I’m not too sure I want to remember what happened,” she admits.

“I remember the pain though,” she adds. The blood runs out of my face as I look away.

“I remember the pain that came the first night after I woke up and it felt like my right arm was on fire and I actually thought I would prefer to die,” she says.

“When I found out the necklace had been cursed I thought whoever wanted someone to die that way must really be a monster,” Granger says dropping my arm. My wrist runs cold as if the blood refuses to flow. She steps closer to me and looks up at me under her heavy eyelashes.

“I’m going to ask you something Malfoy before I prove it. I have a spell here that removes dark magic glamour spells,” she informs me. My stomach drops. How could it be possible that she would know a spell like that? How could she have gotten that kind of information in Hogwarts? Unless she had help.

“See my friends think it was you that put Katie Bell under the Imperius curse,” she says. I swallow hard.

“And only Death Eaters use the Imperius curse,” she confesses, her tone steady and final as she speaks.

“I’m going to ask you a question, Malfoy. It would be in your best interest to answer,” she informs me.

I look over her face -so sallow and sunken- in this light and her fragile fingers balled together tightly. Her expression tells me that she already knows the answer and the final moves before Checkmate are already insight for her. I was already losing when I sat down in the chair to play the game in the first place. Even if it was in one of her futures it never was really possible, was it? At this moment I can’t imagine how we could ever get to that point by the seaside. Inexplicable.

I try to think of the point where I started to want what I saw in her first future. It kind of crept up on me without my permission or notice until one day it was just _there_, already rooted at the back of my mind like it had always been there.

“Are you a Death Eater?” she asks, almost a whisper. I think for a moment of what I saw in that first future.

“No,” I lie. She eyes me disorderly taking out her wand and pointing it at my arm.

“Can I say something first?” I ask. She untightens her balled fist and nods suspiciously at me.

“Okay,” I say. She looks down at the ground and I can tell she’s readying herself for whatever excuse I’m going to come up with. But I’m not going to speak because I won’t waste this lie.

I step forward quickly and with my index finger I bring her head back up to look at me. I lean down quickly and press my lips to hers. They’re dry and slightly cracked but they are warm. Her body stiffens but it doesn’t dither me at all. I swipe my hand away from her chin and behind her neck. I tilt her head up more towards me as I mould my lips down on hers again. Her shoulders loosen a little as her mouth falls open. I kiss her more deeply but slowly. Ever so slowly so as not to frighten her. Her mouth is warm and inviting and my pulse darts up to dangerous levels when her lips move slightly against mine. She tastes delicious and almost familiar. I caress her cheek with my thumb as my nose brushes against hers as I switch to the other side. I gently move her body closer to mine as she stumbles a little against me trying to find her footing blindly but I hold her tight, feeling how fragile she seems under all these layers. Her hands ball against my chest as she grabs at my robe. This is all that there is or ever will be between us from now on. This quick moment of our lips moving slowly together, ever so slowly because she too knows that I am lying. She knows that it was my fault she spent almost a month in the infirmary.

I break the kiss and rest my head against her forehead for a second before I push away from her. My face slips into a frown as I stare at the ground, mentally preparing myself. I push up my sleeve again and extend my arm out towards her. She stares at me as water starts to rim her eyes.

“Malfoy-“

“Just do it, Granger,” I warn, trying to keep my voice steady. Her eyes are so intense and fierce as she stares at me. I can tell that she doesn’t want it to be true. The second before she cast the spell I can feel her determination to change the outcome but it’s too late. A yellow haze swirls around my arm and I can tell by her gasp that the spell has worked and she can now see the mark.

She reaches out but I drop my arm to my side, pulling down the sleeve. Her face turns red and I see the muscles in her jaw clench and unclench.

“Why did you lie?” she shouts, anger boiling inside her.

“You’ve lied to me this entire time!” she screams her body shaking with rage. I look at her torn expression.

“Because I’m a selfish bastard, Granger. You already know that. I wanted to kiss you,” I admit. I have nothing left to lose at this point. “I knew that you wouldn’t want to after you saw it,” I explain. A heat smears across my face as my cheek goes numb. Granger pulls her hand back and cups it against her chest. I raise my hand to my face and press against it. I feel blood start to pour out of my nose. I hadn’t expected her to hit me or be so strong for that matter.

When I look at her she looks slightly abashed for hitting me. She shouldn’t. She grabs her bag and coat.

“You are a monster,” she shouts. I feel the words sizzling in my chest.

“Do not come here again when I am here. I don’t want to speak to you again,” she states clearly. She makes her way to the door only to turn in dramatic fashion.

“I never saw you as a coward Malfoy. But this is by far the most cowardly thing you’ve ever done,” she laughs sarcastically at me.

“Granger you don’t know what you’re talking about,” I warn her.

“Oh I don’t, don’t I? I think it’s pretty clear that you chose the easy way out,” she shouts back at me.

“Easy?” I scream, on the verge of losing my patience. “You think this is fucking easy for me, Granger? You don’t have any fucking clue what you’re talking about. I didn’t make this choice. It was chosen for me,” I yell, kicking one of the chairs against the table. Granger jumps at the noise.

“Cowards always make excuses,” she says, wiping at a tear threatening to fall.

“What would you know, Granger? You would crumble in my position without Potter or the weasel to hold your hand along the way. Without some textbook to tell you exactly what you were supposed to do! Without a teacher to praise you along the way and kiss your ass. You don’t know what life is really like because you live in this fucking make-believe bubble of there being just good vs bad. Not everything is black or white, Granger. Wake the fuck up!”

When I finish I’m panting and Granger is almost blue in the face.

“Such a waste,” she sighs. I watch as she walks out of the classroom and slams the door shut with incredible force, answering the question that was already pretty obvious at this point.


	7. Empthay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone,  
so here's the next chapter I hope you enjoy it. Sorry if it's a little sort I've recently started an online course so I have been a little busier than usual. But I promise I will try and get at least one chapter out a week!  
Much Love <3

**Hermione's Point of View**

My teeth chatter together on the walk back to the common room. I have to hold my hand against my jaw to stop it. I use the corner of my sleeve to furiously wipe away any tear that tries to fall. I will not be so childish as to cry over Draco Malfoy.

In the midst of my thoughts about what just happened in McGonagall’s class, I forget something that Ginny had said before it’s too late. When I enter the common room the majority of the students turn around and applaud. But it doesn’t last very long. Once they take in my expression and the constant chattering of my jaw, they turn quiet. Ginny makes her way through the crowd, taking my arm and excusing our way through the crowd. I barely see anyone’s faces through the tears in my eyes. There are but concerned, colourful blurs against the backdrop of the common room.

As she guides me up the stairs, I feel a hand on my leg.

“Hermione, what happened?” Harry calls from the bottom of the spiral stairwell. I look down at him and as the tears drop, he comes into focus and I see his familiar face. I leave go of Ginny’s arm and throw myself down the step into his arms. He wraps his arms around my waist but there is a hardness to his stature. I know that he is confused as to what is going on. I can feel it circling above us right now.

“I just need a hug,” I murmur into his shoulder.

“Of course,” Harry says rubbing a reassuring hand over my back. I push away from him and smile, wiping my tears off of my sleeve again.

“Is everything okay?” Harry asks, his eyes clear with concern. I can see Ron making his way over through the crowd but I don’t want to have a huge conversation here on the stairwell.

“I’m just a little overwhelmed is all,” I lie. He nods and smiles softly at me.

“Well you go upstairs with Ginny and Ron and I will come to check on you later, okay?” Harry says. I nod back at him.

Looking at him now how could I ever tell him that I had been so easily conned by Malfoy. That I had fallen right into whatever malicious trap he had set for me and in fact, I had done it freely. How could I ever admit to Harry that I had wanted to do it? He would never forgive me.

I turn towards Ginny and link my arm through hers as we continue our way upstairs. Once in the dormitory, it’s a little easier to breathe and I don’t feel as if I have to stop the tears all so much when Ginny is the only person who is going to see them fall. She lays me down on my bed and sits on the edge of it. I reach over and pick up my blanket off the floor and Ginny helps me cover myself in it. It still has moments when it smells of my mother.

“Hermione you should not have gone,” Ginny says. I turn my face away from her and breathe into the duvet. It soaked within a few seconds.

“You should have waited until tomorrow or next week even. You should have waited until you were ready,” Ginny states. I turn back towards her.

“Would I ever have been really ready to see that Gin?” Ginny shrugs uncomfortably and pulls her knees up towards her chest. I sigh realising it’s not her that I’m angry at.

“I’m sorry,” I say. Ginny smiles bashfully.

“You don’t need to apologise Hermione. I understand,” she says. They’re comforting words to hear but unfortunately, that’s all they are. Just words. Ginny truly has no idea what it’s like to be made this much of a fool out of. How easy it was for Malfoy to keep this from me.

Ginny picks lint off of her jumper nervously as she watches me.

“Hermione?”

“Yeah?” I answer.

“What did he say?” she asks. I look away and stare up at the ceiling. I look at the tops of the four-poster bed and how close it is to touching the ceiling.

“What could he say? It was there, plain as day on his arm,” I say. Ginny leans forward and dabs at my cheeks with her tissue.

“He even had the audacity to...” I start but stop because the anger inside me is too much. I pull the blanket up around my face as it turns red.

“What did he do?” Ginny asks, leaning forward towards me.

“He kissed me, Ginny,” I admit after a long pause. Ginny covers her mouth with her hands as she gasps.

“You kissed him!” She exclaims behind her hands.

“No, _he_ kissed _me_. He tricked me,” I mutter, embarrassed.

“How did he trick you?” Ginny asks as her brows furrow together in confusion.

“I told him about the spell. I asked him _first _so he could tell me the truth. I asked him and he said no so I took out my wand but he stopped me. He tricked me by saying he wanted to ask me something first and before I knew it he was kissing me,” I admit, hiding as much as I can in my mother’s old blanket.

Ginny cups her forehead as she weighs up this information. She stares at me in total bewilderment.

“I did not see that coming,” she admits sheepishly.

“So, he just lied so he could kiss you first?” Ginny asks. I nod as Ginny leans back on the bed and I scoot over to make room for her. We both sit there in silence for a while just staring at the ceiling.

“Hermione, I’m really sorry that this happened,” Ginny says and I lean into her a little bit.

“I guess it was only a matter of time,” I say. “Since he obviously had it planned from the start.”

“I disagree,” Ginny states, leaning on her elbow to look down at me in the bed. I look at her in bewilderment.

“How so?”

“Well, he has the mark, right?” Ginny ask to which I nod.

“So, he hasn’t been home at all this year so it’s plausible to say that he’s had it since summer. That he’s been a Death Eater this entire time,” she says. I continue to stare at her in confusion.

“I don’t think any decision Malfoy has made has been made lightly. He knows the position he is in and being around someone with your blood status for him is a huge deal. I would have said yeah for sure he was doing it as a joke before. But now that he has the mark, he _knows_ how serious things are.”

Ginny notices my unbelieving expression and raising her hands in defence.

“I’m just saying, Hermione that I don’t think he planned **all **of this. They made Malfoy a Death Eater for a reason and I doubt it was to play games with you after hours in McGonagall’s room,” Ginny says. I blush as I pull the blanket up over my face.

“Now that he has the mark it’s too risky for him to do these kinds of things and yet, from what you’ve told me it seems like he doesn’t care too much about the rules when it comes to you,” Ginny adds.

“Okay so, what? Do you want me to go back down there and congratulate him? Tell him the mark doesn’t matter to me?” I berate.

“No, I’m just saying that-“

“What? What are you trying to say!” I shout.

“I’m just saying that he’s still a person, Hermione. You don’t have to cast him out to sea because he doesn’t 100% believe in your morals!” Ginny shouts back.

“He’s a Death Eater, Ginny,” I say more softly this time, a lot of the fight gone out of me.

“Yes, he is. But he’s also just a boy, Hermione. He’s only seventeen years old. _You_ are only seventeen years old. _I am_ only sixteen years old. Maybe, just _maybe_ we don’t know everything. Maybe this isn’t all we’re ever going to amount too. If it were me in his situation, I don’t think I would be able to do it,” Ginny says. Her words remind me of what Malfoy had said at the end, that I would never be able to handle being in his position. To hear Ginny say it adds weight to his words.

“_His _situation?” I ask.

“Have you not given it much thought?” Ginny asks. I guess that I hadn’t really.

“To grow up in that kind of environment? With Lucius Malfoy as a mentor? I’m surprised Malfoy hasn’t done even more messed up shit than he has!” Ginny exclaims.

“You and I grew up in households where our parents loved us and nurtured us and listened to what we had to say. Can you imagine what kind of shit he grew up with?” Ginny says.

“Why are you so empathetic all of a sudden?” I ask, feeling uneasy about the direction in which the conversation is going.

“I’m not. I just know you, Hermione. I know that you don’t want to admit that you might be wrong about him.”

“You were the one who gave me the spell. You were the one talking about all this damming evidence against him?” I blurt out.

“I know that I did but after that day at the hospital I actually looked at him and watched him,” she admits.

“What do you mean you _watched him_?” I ask, feeling uneasy.

“I didn’t want to say this because I assumed how tonight was going to go but after I gave you that spell, I thought about how much was going to change once we were certain about it and I found myself just watching him. He was so different Hermione,” Ginny says.

“Different?”

“He was almost …_normal_. It was surreal to watch him. I guess I got a little caught up in it,” Ginny admits bashfully.

“Ginny? you’re rambling,” I say.

“Hermione, he was _hurting_. It was as plain as day if you knew what to look for. He hid it well but he wasn’t always able to hide it. I suppose he didn’t know I was looking,” Ginny admits.

I push up off the bed and pull the blanket down, leaving room for Ginny to climb in. Once we’re comfortable in the bed I lay my head against Ginny’s as we both stare off into the distance.

“What are you trying to say, Ginny?” I ask, slicing through the silence.

“I’m not trying to say anything Hermione. I’m just trying to let you know that there are two sides to every story. Not just yours,” she states.

“So, you want me to just forget that he’s a Death Eater because he has feelings now?” I ask, shocked.

“No, I want you to acknowledge that he does, in fact, have feelings. That he’s not just this status that he has suddenly acquired. That he’s human just like me or you.”

“Ginny, I don’t know about all this. It’s a lot to process in one night,” I say, turning over and pulling the blanket up over my ears.

“I know Hermione. I know he did a lot of horrible shit and that he lied. But when you’re over-analysing and over-thinking everything just remember that there is still a person behind the mask,” Ginny says and with that, she lifts the blanket, grabs her shoes and waves goodbye from the dormitory door.

I stay awake long after the noise in the common room has quietened down. Even long after the other girls in the dorm have fallen asleep. It’s only when the birds outside the window start chirping against the soft blue light of the morning do I finally fall asleep.

The next morning when the girls get up the thumping starts in my head so I take one of the small vials madame Pomfrey gave me for pain management. When I’ve taken two, I count the rest and decide to ration them better. I don’t want to have to go back to Madam Pomfrey and ask for more in the first two days of being discharged.

When I settle down in the Great Hall for breakfast our usual spot is empty and I’m shiningly happy for the break. I grab the tea first but think against it and pour myself a bigger cup than usual of coffee.

“I don’t know how you drink that stuff,” Ron says as he slings into the seat beside me. I sigh a little, angry at myself for being annoyed by him. It’s not him I’m angry at. It’s never even Ginny.

“It’s a muggle fascination I couldn’t really give up,” I admit sheepishly as I bring the alluring aroma close to my mouth.

“You look really tired, Mione. Are you sure you couldn’t just get a slip from Pomfrey to excuse you for another day?” Ron asks, shovelling pastries into his mouth.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Ron,” I shrug. He laughs in return and hands me one of the warmer pastries. I smile at him as I nibble around the edges. Ron grabs another handful of pastries as he stands, muttering something about trying to get in some Quidditch training in before the first period.

More students enter the great hall to grab some food before the house-elves clear it. I can’t help but watch the doors for him. After everything that has happened, I want to see his face and see the recognition that what happened last night was _real_. But I already know it is true. It’s the only thing I’ve thought about all night and all morning.

When I’ve had two extra-large cups of coffee Ginny finally makes her way to our usual spot, sliding in beside me. At this point, I’m not bothered by the company since the caffeine has finally started to work. She eats quietly for a moment gauging my reaction from the corner of her eye before speaking.

“I have an idea,” Ginny mutters as Malfoy finally enters. We watch as he moves quickly through the crowds of students exiting to make their way to their first class. His robes sit ruffled on his shoulders, his appearance dishevelled and his hair is pushed back instead of hanging low over his eyes. He joins Blaise and Pansy at the Slytherin table and keeps his eyes low.

Ginny calls my name to get my attention.

“I said I have an _idea_.” I turn to face her, taking another sip from my coffee.

“Ginny, I don’t really want to do this right now. I appreciate it, honestly. I’m just really tired,” I tell her. She frowns, biting into her cereal.

“Look, I know you feel guilty about keeping this from Harry and Ron,” she starts. I stare at her and notice the conviction in her eyes, knowing she’s going to keep going regardless of whether or not I answer.

“This kind of information we have on Malfoy can only be told by you,” she says.

“Thanks, Ginny like I didn’t already feel the weight of what I know,” I sigh.

“No I mean it will sound better coming from you. But what if what you told Harry and Ron wasn’t just bad news?” Ginny asks, a hint of excitement present in her voice. I laugh.

“The only way that’s going to happen is if I lie Ginny, and I’m not going to lie to them. That’s even worse,” I admit.

“No, no! I’m not asking you to lie, Hermione”

“Then what are you proposing?” I ask.

“I’m saying what if you change the outcome of what you have to tell them,” Ginny suggests.

“Ginny you’re literally rambling right now,” I laugh, finishing up my breakfast. I put the coffee cup down and gather my books for the first class.

“Look, Hermione,” she says taking my arm. “I was thinking about this all night and I think I figured out a way to change the outcome. Only you can do it.”

“Do what?”

“Change **him**, Hermione. So when you have to tell Harry and Ron, Malfoy could be an ally and not an enemy,” she exclaims. I grab her arm and hush her frantically.

“Are you insane, Ginny! Malfoy isn’t just going to magically switch sides,” I explain.

“Hermione, you can do this! You’re the only person who can! Don’t you see it?” Ginny asks. I grab my stuff and Ginny stops me.

“You can make him see reason, Hermione. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. I truly believe you can get through to him.” Ginny’s expression is so intense I can’t help but want to believe what’s she’s saying. But I’m not sure what she’s saying is even possible. There does not seem to be any universe where it is even feasible that a Death Eater could possibly turn over to the light side let alone Malfoy.

In the silence that pours out between us, I find myself looking over towards the Slytherin table to a familiar pair of eyes. They’re dark and heavy against the laughter coming from Blaise and Pansy. But they’re there and they’re watching me as he had promised so long ago. I can see so much in them, so much pain, hurt and confusion. All the words he cannot say are there and somehow without my knowing, I am able to see them and understand them. Over the noise of the great hall, we share are silent moment and I’m not entirely sure how I feel about it.

“You care about him, don’t you?” Ginny’s voice cuts through the silence. I break the eye contact and laugh nervously.

“Come on, Hermione. It’s obvious. I know that you feel guilty about feeling that way because of what he is now but you can change it,” Ginny reassures me.  
  


“Honestly Ginny, I don’t think this is even possible,” I admit finally hoping she’ll just drop it.

Ginny turns her attention towards the Slytherin table momentarily and then back to me. She stands and grabs her things from the chair beside her.

“This isn’t the end for him, Hermione. He’s just a little lost right now,” Ginny says, smiling sadly at me as she walks away. I watch her leave, disappearing amongst the other students congregating at the doorway.

I look over at the Slytherin table and watch as Malfoy seems to be having a heated conversation with Pansy. He bats her hand away as she tries to hang her arm around his neck. He notices me watching and I wonder for a moment what it would be like if our situations were reversed. If I, in fact, was the one in his position sitting at the Slytherin table with the weight of the world on my shoulders.

For once I think he might be right. I wouldn’t be able to cope.


	8. Something that makes sense

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!  
I know this chapter is probably a little earlier than expected. But I was just in the mood for writing so I managed to get it wrote in 2 hours today! I want to thank everyone who reviewed it actually is so nice to get reviews throughout my day and get to read them. It's so nice to know people are really enjoying the dynamic between Hermione and Draco.  
Please let me know what you think of this chapter.  
As always, Much love <3

**Hermione’s Point of View**

“Do you want to ditch Ancient ruins and come to the quidditch field with Ron and me?” Harry asks as we leave transfiguration class. I smirk at him and he laughs nonchalantly.

“In what world, Harry?”

“Yeah, I figured. But it’s always worth asking. I feel like we haven’t hung out much in the last while. You’ve been very busy with Prefect duties and helping Professor McGonagall,” Harry notes with a sigh.

A tremor of guilt runs through me and I look away, out at the forbidden forest visible through the window. Words swarm up to the tip of my tongue but I bite down on them. A small part of me wants to just spew it all out like word vomit so it can’t hurt me anymore. It constantly swirls in my stomach waiting for an outlet. But if I was to tell him right now everything that I know, who knows what would happen. He could run straight to Dumbledore and tell him and then I would have to tell Dumbledore. Who knows in what way? There could be an inquisition, a meeting where I have to stand up in front of the teachers and Malfoy and rat him out. I can’t decide If that’s something that I feel like Malfoy deserves. To be put through something like that for a choice he claims was not his own.

Since everything that Ginny had said last week, I find myself looking at things a little differently now. Anytime I have to make a decision I find myself thinking of all possible outcomes and choices. Even when I see others making decisions. It’s become quite tiresome and time-consuming but regardless I cannot make it stop. Maybe it hadn’t occurred from what Ginny had actually said but more from the idea that she had thought me small-minded. That had hurt.

“Will you hang out with us in the common room later?” Harry asks.

“It’s Thursday Harry. I have my rounds from 9 to 10, remember? But I’ll try to come quickly after. You could always come hang in the library with me after classes?” Harry laughs in response.

“Hermione you always shush me if I try to talk too much,” Harry says.

“That’s because you don’t have an indoor voice, Harry. You can’t yell in the library!” I exclaim and Harry laughs in return.

“Whatever, crazy! I’ll see you later in the common room,” Harry says as he turns in the opposite direction, heading back towards the Quidditch pitch.

I turn and head towards the bridge. When I get outside, I pull my hood over my head as a cold January breeze whips fiercely through the open arches in the bridge. My hood suddenly flies down as I struggle to pull it back up and hold all of my books in one hand. In the midst of my struggle, my foot gets caught on a slight incline on the ground and I tumble forward, spilling my books across the ground. I look ahead and notice no one is ahead of me and sigh in relief. But it doesn’t last long.

A horde of laughter erupts from behind me as Crab and Goyle walk around me on the bridge and turn to face me.

“What a clumsy Mudblood,” Goyle exclaims. He pulls out his wand and mutters something. A string of my hair acts as if attached to the tip of his wand for a moment as he moves it so the hair jabs me in the eye. I pull the strand of hair away and it seems to disconnect from his wand. I pull my hood up and work on gathering up my books. When the two can see my attention is no longer on them, they continue their walk across the bridge, cackling loudly as they move. I leave the books and stare at the tiny drop of blood running down my leg. I swipe it away with my sleeve and gladly it doesn’t bleed anymore. I pull my black socks up high over my calf to cover it.

For a moment there is a strange feeling as if my body is not my own as a swift movement of air puts me back on my feet with a jolt. I look down at the ground as the books, one by one restack and fly up into my arms. I grab them and hold them close as Malfoy walks past. He doesn’t look at me. Instead, he pulls up his hood as she slumps past me, his robe billowing in the wind behind him. He puts his wand back into his pocket. He doesn’t turn or acknowledge me in any way. I stare after him in complete surprise and bewilderment. 

* * *

“You don’t have to walk with me, Ginny,” I say. Ginny smiles and links her arm through mine.

“I have half an hour to kill before I’m supposed to meet up with Dean Thomas anyways,” she admits to which I roll my eyes at her.

“Why are you dragging that poor boy along. He adores you,” I say. Ginny giggles.

“He’s a really good kisser, Hermione. But he’s dull as dishwater. If he wasn’t such a good kisser I would have dropped him a long time ago,” she admits confidently. I wish I had half of Ginny’s confidence sometimes. She has this air about her that just follows her everywhere. Sometimes when I’m around her I can feel it having an effect on me because I know it when she’s gone. She is the kind of person that does make you want to be a better version of yourself. She seems to drag that out of people. I think she would be better suited to my situation.

“_Speaking of which_…” Ginny says rather suspiciously. I pull away from her.

“Don’t you start, okay! I’m doing my rounds I can’t be distracted by your nonsense right now,” I exclaim, turning away trying to look busy, hoping she might believe it and drop the topic she’s about to address.

“Oh, _Hermione_ come on it’s dead around the castle tonight. I heard the Ravenclaws were having a secret party so everyone is already at that,” Ginny explains. “No one is going to be out walking around at this time,” she adds.

“Oh, great so I’ll have to go break that up later and be the bad guy again.” I sigh.

“Stop changing the subject,” Ginny whines tugging on my arm. “Let’s just talk girly for like 5 seconds and then I promise I won’t ask again for like 2 weeks,” Ginny bargains. I laugh loudly as we pass Slughorns classroom. It causes emotions to rise inside me as I remember all the secret words Malfoy and I shared in that classroom.

“Ginny, I don’t know,” I say, embarrassed.

“Let’s just talk for 5 minutes. No restrictions. You can say whatever you want and I won't judge you,” Ginny pushes. I sigh, slumming down my shoulders.

“Okay,” I finally say. A wide smile crosses her face but when she takes in my pained expression she redraws herself properly, wearing a more calm and collected expression. She looks away nonchalantly as she speaks, giving me some privacy I imagine.

“So what was it like? To kiss Draco Malfoy,” she asks. I can tell by the tone of her voice shes trying really hard to sound not bothered by the whole conversation. I smirk a little as we round another corridor. I pull my robe tight to my chest as we pass the door for the bridge. I think about what Malfoy did today, helping me with my books. I turn back to the question at hand and ponder back to that day almost two weeks ago now.

“I don’t know, Gin. It was my first real kiss and I wasn’t even prepared,” I say, shyly, remembering how much the kiss had shocked me.

“What do you mean? Didn’t you kiss Victor Krum?” Ginny asks.

“Well, yes. I did. Well I mean it was just different. With Victor, he didn’t really kiss like what I imagined kissing was supposed to be like. He would just press his lips to mine and hold them there for a few seconds. Sometimes it was actually quite uncomfortable. Like kissing a corpse.” I look over at Ginny’s eager expression as she laps up this conversation. My cheeks turn red.

“Ginny I really can’t do this conversation. I’m turning into a strawberry,” I admit, pressing my cold hands against my warm cheeks in an attempt to cool them down.

“No, you’re doing great. You agreed to 5 minutes! Now, was Malfoy more of what you were expecting?” she asks and I sigh.

“Yes, I don’t know. I guess so. Yes,” I say, my voice rambling embarrassingly. I grew up as an only child and although my parents and I were very close we never really talked much about feelings so. Ginny and I only really became close in the last 2 years of school and as much as she had always tried to drag these kinds of conversations out of me, they’re harder than I imagined.

“Do you think he liked it?” She asks and I stop. I had used all of my self-control to not think too much about to kiss because I didn’t want to have to deal with the emotions that came with it. But now with Ginny’s excessive questions, I feel as though I am right back there.

I think back to the feeling of his callous fingers against my neck and how he tilted my head back to deepen the kiss. I think of how his lips felt against mine, so warm and educated. It was a thousand times different to kiss Draco Malfoy than to kiss Victor Krum. He had been the same age then as Malfoy is now but he didn’t have anything on Malfoy as much as it confuses me to admit that to myself.

Feelings start to rise inside me as heat pulses out of me. I walk over to the wall nearest to the window and crack it open a little, allowing some air to hit against my neck. Ginny comes over and puts her hand reassuringly on my shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” she asks. I inhale and exhale deeply trying to clear my head but tears suddenly start to fall down my face.

“Ginny what am I supposed to do with this?” I ask, my voice shaking. I clear my throat loudly.

“Ginny, why would he kiss me like that? What is he trying to do? What’s his goal here? I just don’t know how to deal with this!” I exclaim, my voice cracking. I clear my throat loudly again trying to regain some control but I can’t stop the tears from falling. My emotions feel right on the surface, all spilling out at once.

“It’s okay, Hermione. Just breathe. Here,” she says handing me a tissue she pulled from her robe pocket. I dry my eyes roughly and blow my nose loudly.

“Have you ever considered the idea that he might like you, Hermione? That maybe he always kind of has?” Ginny hands me another tissue when I soak the first one. I laugh a little at her comment.

“Yeah, it was really obvious those first few years of school when he was constantly bulling me,” I laugh. But what she’s saying suddenly clicks in my head.

“You don’t actually believe that, though right?” I reply frantically.

“Well, my mother said _that old saying_ to me so I’m sure your mother said it to you,” Ginny replies with a smug half-smile. She’s right, my mother had said it when I was younger. That if a boy was mean to you it was because he liked you. I had been so young when my mother had first said it, I hadn’t given it much thought. I remember coming home crying from Primary school because Chris Laffan has pushed me off the swing and I had scraped my knee. My mother told me he must have a crush on me.

“Ginny that’s just something mothers said to little girls. It’s not actually true,” I push. Ginny raises her shoulders in a shrug.

“Well I mean seeing as he was kissing you two weeks ago, I would say maybe this is a case when it might actually be true,” Ginny argues. “Think about it for a second. He saw you the first day of school and say maybe he thought you two could be friends but then he found out you were a muggle-born. So, maybe he was angry because his father had taught him that that was wrong so maybe he hated you instead. And we both know what they say about love and hate.” Ginny smiles smugly to herself.

“That’s a lot of maybes Ginny,” I say wiping the remaining dampness from my cheeks. “I think you’re clutching at straws,” I add.

“And I think you’re avoiding any logical explanation, “Ginny argues.

“Yes because there isn’t any logical explanation. It doesn’t make sense for Malfoy to suddenly…” I trail off.

“…_want you_?” Ginny fills in. I shrug, unsure.

“When did this start?” Ginny asks, a strange concentration coming over her face. She grabs my shoulder as realisation replaces concentration.

“What?” I ask, a nervous laugh escaping.

“I’ve been such _a fool_,” Ginny says aghast. “The award! This all started after the award. Whatever he saw in that vile, it changed him, Hermione,” Ginny shouts. I shush her automatically even though the corridors are empty.

“I don’t think so, Ginny. He told me what he saw. Well, he gave me an idea,” I admit.

“What did he see? Why haven’t you told me this already?” Ginny exclaims a little hurt.

“It was a while ago and I didn’t want to hurt your feelings because I knew you wanted me to be with Ron,” I say.

“Hermione, I just want you to be happy is all. I thought you liked Ron and that’s why I was encouraging it,” Ginny explains. “What does this have to do with Ron?”

“Malfoy initially asked me to stay away from Ron…romantically,” I say shyly, gauging her reaction.

“Why?”

“He said that he saw me die if I was with him,” I explain. Ginny weights this up.

“And what? _You believe that_?”

“Well, yeah?” I ask, confused.

“It doesn’t add up, Hermione. It doesn’t make any sense. If he didn’t care he would have said nothing to you and let you die. But he told you. He warned you because he cares and in that warning, he also made sure nothing romantic happened between you and Ron. Something would have happened if he hadn’t said anything, am I right?”

“Well, I mean, I suppose so. That would have been the natural progression,” I admit. Saying that out loud makes me feel horrible. Like Ron wasn’t a choice but something I had to fall into. It makes me feel terribly sad about the situation now and in some ways, I’m glad Malfoy brought me to this conclusion before I got involved with something that would have been near impossible to leave.

“There is more, Hermione. I’m willing to bet that Malfoy is just a cauldron of secrets.”

“That I agree with,” I say.

“He saw more than he’s letting on in that vile,” Ginny says musingly. She glances down at her watch and her face lights up in surprise.

“Oh, I was supposed to meet Dean 10 minutes ago,” Ginny exclaims, turning away.

“We’re not finished this conversation though,” she says pointing at me as she takes off down the corridor, waving as she disappears. I laugh a little, wiping a hand against my cheek to make sure it’s dry. I feel a little lighter after the conversation.

I exhale and gather myself as I make my way down the opposite direction to Ginny. I walk back the route I’ve already taken and stop at the door to the bridge. I can almost see how cold it is outside and yet something seems to call out to me. Inviting me out into the cold with a false offering of warmth and peacefulness. I oblige.

When I push open the heavy double doors the cold assaults me. I pull my robe tight around me but something stops me from casting a warmth charm. Something about the cold clears the fog in my head and sobers me up against all these heavy, drunken thoughts. I walk out to the centre of the bridge, feeling lighter and clearer with every step. Something about the breeze reminds me of the steep hills I use to sit on behind my house, watching the cars pass on the motorway.

I hear the double doors creak out and the breeze tells me who it is before I see him.

* * *

**Draco’s Point of View**

I find her on the bridge and I watch her for a moment through the stained-glass windows in the double doors. The wind causes her hair to pull upwards, swirling all around her face as she stares out over the river_. What the hell is she doing?_ She’s going to freeze to death out there. I pull open the doors and the wind immediately cuts through me.

I make my way towards her. She looks a little right in my direction but doesn’t take her eyes off the ground as I approach. I watch as she pulls her robe tighter around her. I stop a couple of feet away from her and just stare at her, unsure of what to do. I had actually expected her to walk away the closer I got. Now finding myself uneasy I simply lean against the wall beside her and stare out at the river below.

“You’re going to get sick if you stay out here,” I say, uneasy. I hear a faint laugh in return. She turns towards me with a clear sober expression. I inhale sharply, taken aback by the conviction and certainty in her eyes. If this is the game we’re going to play I can accept. I run my hand through my hair and rewire my face to match hers.

“That all you’ve got to say?” she asks sharply.

“What else to do you expect?” I ask. She huffs and I expect her to storm away but she doesn’t. She turns back and stares out again. I furrow my eyebrows together as I watch her. Has the cold gotten to her and made her delusional?

“I guess I expected more, Malfoy,” she says, quietly, more to herself.

“What do you _want_, Granger?” I ask, curious. How does she want this to go? As much as it makes me uncomfortable, I am aware that the ball is in her court, somewhat.

“Something you won’t give me,” she answers, smugly.

“And that is?”

“Answers,” she says curtly.

“Do you have the questions?” I ask, smugly. She laughs half-hearteningly but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

“I have the questions and you have the answers. But we keep them to ourselves. Isn’t that always the way?” she laughs sardonically.

“Isn’t that just the game we play?” I ask.

“Aren’t you _tired_ of playing this game? Or is it all just a game to you?” she asks, turning back to me with an intensity that causes my stomach to tense.

“This is what we do,” I say, my voice convincing.

“_We?_ This is what you do, I just used to play along with it out of curiosity. But I don’t think I will anymore. Maybe then you’ll get bored and this can finally be over,” she says, her voice low and serious. I step towards her and she backs into the pillar.

“Malfoy, don’t!” She warns pressing her hands against my chest when I step forward again. When she touches me a current passes from her body to mine and I know she feels it too because I can see the uncertainty in her eyes.

“You don’t get to just back out Granger. Nothing has changed,” I explain.

“Everything has changed, Malfoy!” She screams, her voice echoing around the empty spaces of the bridge.

“You’re a ….” I watch the fear pass over her face and it becomes clear what she thinks of me in that second.

“_Say it_,” I shout back at her, my chest rumbling with the force of it. Her face drops slightly but she regains some of her fight back.

“You’re a Death Eater, Malfoy. Why would you ever allow something like that to happen?” She asks, a begging tone hidden underneath.

“I already told you,” I start. “There was no choice. There was no conversation. It was just one day I went to get my mark the same way you go to sleep at night. Like it was completely normal and natural because that’s the way it was always going to go. I always knew that.” I admit. I watch the way Granger’s expression changes from horror to pity continuously. 

“There was no choice for me, Granger. There never was,” I admit, sadly. Grangers hands on my chest change from pushing to sitting completely still. They’ve warmed against my robes.

“So you thought you’d make a choice for me? Keep me away from Ron to prevent me from dying?” she asks, staring up at my face.

The cold has frozen her face into this glass-like appearance where one touch might crack it and she could fade away into the cold breeze. But her rosy red cheeks prove that there is some life still left in her, matching her deep red lips. Another factor from the cold.

“Actually, I thought saving you could make up for all the shit I have to do,” I say, but catch myself. Fear runs through my core. I hadn’t meant to say that but I had gotten side-tracked looking at her face. I curse myself inwardly.

“What have you been asked to do?” she says, obviously immediately picking up on it. I step back, cursing myself inwardly again as her hands fall away from my chest and sit awkwardly at her sides. There’s panic in her voice as she speaks and I think of the severity of the situation all of a sudden. What would people say if they were to walk out on the bridge now and see us standing her actually talking? My how the rumours would spread.

“Come on,” I say, grabbing her wrist as I pull her across the bridge. She follows reluctantly and to my surprise doesn’t pull her wrist back. I pull her arm quickly causing her jacket to push back and I wrap my hand around the bare flesh of her wrist where her skin is warm and soft. She stumbles a little but keeps following.

Inside the double doors, I hear the noise of footsteps down the corridor. I look back at her and her eyes are huge with fear. I slide my hand down and grab her hand, pulling her frantically as she stares at the direction in which the footsteps are coming.

“Move it, Granger,” I urge and she finally follows. I pull her into the first classroom I see and we both rush to close the door causing it to bang a little louder than I would have liked. We both stand there pushing on the door, her body in front of mine, both our arms outstretched towards the door. Her back pressed against my front as we listen carefully.

“What if they come in here?” Granger whispers as the footsteps get louder. I shush her as I try to listen and pray they go down the opposite corridor or across the bridge. But they draw closer and voices start to take shape. When they come up to the door Granger pushes back away from the door, flush against me and heat drops to my groin. I drop my head onto Granger's shoulder as the footsteps stop outside of the door. I drop my arms from the door and without much thought, I bring them in front and wraps them around her. One low around her waist and one high around her shoulders and I pull her close. She inhales loudly as the voices outside become recognisable.

“Don’t speak,” I warn quietly into her ear as I pull her slowly back away from the door. I pick her up and move as slowly and smoothly as I can back through the rows of desks and table. When I step up onto the podium the teacher's table is located on, it creaks ever so slightly. I curse and move quicker backwards behind one of the enormous mahogany bookcases. The classroom door swings open slowly as Granger and I disappear into the darkness casted by the bookcase. I pull her back against the wall and lower her slowly down on top of my shoes. She awkwardly drops her feet down either side of mine trying not to make a sound. I keep my arms wrapped tight around her as we stand as still as possible.

I watch as Blaise and Pansy enter the classroom through a gap above the books and the shelve above it. Granger isn’t tall enough to see so she stares nervously ahead, her body shaking against mine. I bring my mouth down close to her ear and brush the hair back behind it before I speak.

“It’s Blaise and Pansy,” I whisper as quietly as I can. “Don’t make a sound,” I warn. I feel her head nod against my chest.

“Pansy what are you doing?” Blaise asks, irritation present in his voice.

“Didn’t you hear that? I could have sworn we were going to run in on some third years shacking up in here?” Pansy answers, her voice disappointed. I pity any third years she’s caught before. They would never be able to live it down. I think what she would say if she were to walk around this bookcase right now. I would certainly never live It down.

“Come on, let’s go back to the common room. There’s no one here,” Blaise calls.

“Hey, while we’re here,” Pansy starts with a raised eyebrow and Blaise laughs.

“Thought Malfoy was more your type? Or Nott?” Blaise replies smartly.

“Hmm, jealous I never give you any attention? And for the record I don’t have a type,” Pansy says seductively. I watch as she makes her way across the classroom towards Blaise and wraps an arm around his neck, leaning in for a kiss. Granger’s body goes stark still as the sound of kissing fills the silence of the classroom. I look away and bow my head down onto Granger's shoulder again, breathing in the scent of her shampoo. I try to think of anything else besides the sounds of kissing when Granger is so dangerously close to me. Her behind pressing dangerously against me. A sweat slithers up my back as I try to think of distractions.

I hear the sound of chairs scraping against the floor as Blaise and Pansy drag two tables together and continue kissing on top of them. This can not actually be real life.

“Fuck sake,” I curse low under my breath into Granger's hair. Against my forearm her chest rises and falls rapidly her breathing becoming a little loud. _Is she panicking_?

“Breathe,” I whisper low, brushing my lips against her ear as I speak. She shivers. I extend my arms out as she inhales and pull in when it’s time for her to exhale, regulating her breathing until her chest slows gradually.

“Good girl,” I murmur against her ear. She shivers again. I feel myself getting hard and if she can feel it, she’s doing a good job of hiding it.

Pansy whines loudly and I turn to see Blaise stepping down from the table.

“Why are you stopping?” She asks, buttoning up her shirt.

“Cause I’m not about to fuck you against some old wooden tables. Come back to my bed,” Blaise suggests.

“What about Malfoy?” Pansy asks and my name in her mouth makes me feel sick.

“Doesn’t matter. He doesn’t sleep much anymore anyway,” Blaise says. I hadn’t noticed that he had noticed that. Pansy gathers her things off the table and finishes buttoning up her shirt as Blaise opens the classroom door for her. When the door is shut, we wait, listening as their voices drift away. When it’s been silent for an entire minute Granger pushes away from me and takes a few steps before turning around.

Her expression is so hard to read because it is like looking at a painting. One that you know is beautiful but you don’t fully understand. One of the ones that knowledgeable men would study and argue over and would hang in a museum somewhere.

“I cannot do this with you,” she cries her voice breaking. She puts up her hands and shouts when I automatically step forward.

“I can’t do it, Malfoy. It’s tearing me apart. _This_ is tearing me apart,” she says pointing between us frantically.

“I _can’t _do it,” she says again.

“I _can’t _do what you’re asking me to do,” she sobs, tears running down her face. She keeps her hands outstretching as a warning against any of my advances.

“And what am I _asking_ you to do?” I bark back, unsure of how to handle her sobbing so frantically. I watch as her chest heaves again.

“You know what you’re asking of me. Every time you touch me you _know_ what you’re asking and I just can’t. I can’t,” she says, her voice trailing off into incoherent rambling.

“Granger-

“I don’t know if I can ever forgive you for lying to me about being what you are,” she says and her words cut through me.

“Granger-

“And I know you said it wasn’t a choice and I understand that, Malfoy. But to some extent, we have control over our own lives. It only becomes a lack of a choice when we chose to allow something to happen,” she says, her voice low.

“Do you not see how crazy all of this even is? Every time I stop and think about the fact that this conversation is even happening, I think it’s barbaric!” she exclaims throwing her arms out in frustration.

“Harry is my _best friend_, Malfoy,” she says suddenly, changing the atmosphere, her eyes turning solemn and sad.

“I know th-

“There is a line in the sand, Malfoy. You and I are on different sides,” she says.

The worst part is that her words cause such a reaction in me. They cause this anger to rise inside me and I have to use all my strength to keep it at bay because even though she rises it, it is not aimed at her. It is aimed at me because I know that she is right. Everything that she is saying is right and with each logical word, we get further and further away from what I saw in her future. But that doesn’t mean that it is gone.

“What do you want from me, Granger? What do you want me to say? Cause I know you have it all probably worked out in your head?” I ask, stepping closer till her hand is pressed against my chest again. She looks down at the space in between us as she uses her shoulder to wipe away some of the tears.

“I don’t know,” she admits, sniffling.

“Yes, you do. Now, what do you want?” I ask again. She dries her eyes and stares up at me with bloodshot eyes all red and swollen.

“Say something that makes sense, Malfoy? For once?”

I smile down at her, smugly.

“I think that you will forgive me,” I say and her mouth falls open a little. “_Eventually_,” I add. She huffs.

“Wishful thinking, perhaps?” She smiles smugly in return. I reach up and take one of her hands on my chest and give it a squeeze.

“Actually, I’ve _seen_ it,” I admit with a smug raise of my eyebrows. Her own eyebrows shoot up when she realises, I’m talking about her future. While the realisation sets in, I turn on my heel and leave her standing there in confusion.

On my way out I make sure to leave the door open. At least on my side.


	9. Magnets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!  
Here's the next chapter in the story. We're kind of coming near the end of the story. I don't think there will be too many more chapters. But thank you all for reviewing I appreciate it so much.  
Much love <3

**Hermione’s Point of View**

It is in the aftermath of his words that I find myself here, alone in my dormitory. I had managed to squeeze past everyone in the common room rather successfully. Now I’m wondering whether I should have stopped and sat with Harry and Ron. My absence has been noted and avoiding them for another night is only going to cause more problems. Maybe their conversations could have proved as a useful distraction. My mind starts twisting and turning again as it begins going down one pathway before turning to another one.

I think of the severity of the situation we were just in. If Pansy or Blaise had come around that bookcase and seen us I don’t know what would have happened. I can’t begin to imagine what they might have said or what I would have said. Or even what Malfoy would have said to explain away the reason we were both in the same room.

But the panic I experienced had not come from the fact that Pansy and Blaise were making out on the table two feet away from us. It had come from his left arm pressed close to my chest and neck. His arm that bears the mark pressed so tightly against me, holding me still. The panic had come from being so close to it, having it so near my heart. I swore it felt cold pressed against me, like ice that sticks when you touch it.

But then I think of his other arm wrapped lower down, across my stomach and how when I had panicked his thumb had moved up and down, almost caressingly. I don’t even know if he was aware he was doing it. But I could feel it because it was moving against skin that was visible because my jumper was somewhat pulled up.

I think of his lips, whispering low, close to my ear and how it tingled to have them brush against it. I roll over in the bed and pull the blanket up over my head, blocking out the glare from the light. I breathe deeply for a while until the panic in my chest settles down. What have I gotten myself involved with? How could I let all of this happen? It all feels like one giant mess and I like myself and my life to be together and prepared. It doesn’t fit me but I can’t seem to figure out a way to set it right. Malfoy isn’t the type of person that you can just handle or organise. He’s an enigma. One to be reckoned with and I don’t know if I’m strong enough to fit against him anymore.

* * *

**Draco’s Point of View**

“I didn’t see you at the party last night?” Blaise says as we’re walking to potions.

“Hmm, yeah not exactly my scene. Heard she invited third years,” I comment. Blaise rolls his eyes.

“It wasn’t too bad,” he says, readjusting his bag strap.

“Do anything interesting afterwards?” I say, slyly, hoping to get a rise out him. He raises his eyebrow at me and I look the other way.

“No, the usual. _Why?_” he asks sceptically.

“No reason,” I smirk. Blaise knows I know something but he doesn’t have enough information to keep digging so he lets it go. I smile to myself.

It’s probably not best to taunt him about last night incase he inquires how I might know. Sometimes I have a bad habit of talking myself into sticky situations. But I also manage to get out of them quite well so I think that’s why I still dabble in them.

A force moves past me, shouldering me. Potter walks past and looks over his shoulder at me with a frown.

“Watch it, Potter. Do we all have to clear the halls and make room for the chosen one or something? Did I miss the memo?” I scowl. Potter turns on his heels to face me and the look on his face tells me he’s more than willing to engage in this fight. I’m glad, I have some pent up anger to get out after last nights steamer than usual run-in with Granger.

“No, but maybe they should clear the halls for a scumbag Death Eater like you,” he growls back at me. A few eyes turn our way.

“Watch your fucking mouth, Potter. Didn’t your _mother_ teach you better, oh, _wait_.” Potter throws his forearm against my neck and pushes up. Sadly I’m a lot taller and stronger than he is. I grab his arm and twist, pushing him back against the stone wall. The air leaves his chest in a loud grunt.

“Don’t ever fucking touch me,” I snap, twisting his arm tighter. He recoils from the pain. Potter manages to untangle himself somehow and pushes back against my chest, hard.

“You think just because Dumbledore didn’t believe me about what you did to Katie Bell that you’re off the hook. I’m sure you’ll fuck up again and when you do I’ll make sure to have proof this time,” Potter warns. I clench my teeth together as he speaks. The whole Katie Bell thing is something I don’t give much thought to because of how badly I messed up the entire situation and what came after it.

“You’d want to be careful throwing around accusations like that without any proof. You haven’t a God damn idea what you’re talking about,” I spit back.

“I know what you are, Malfoy. I’m not the only one either,” he says. I think of Granger and I wonder has she told him about it. I doubt it because then she would have to explain her part of the situation.

“I bet your father is proud of your fuck up,” Potter adds and this hits a nerve. I ball my hands into fists. My father had not been proud of my fuck up, he had only been proud of the fact that I had almost killed Granger in the process. My stomach churns. I’m ready for this to end. So _it_ begins_._

_ I_ begin.

“Yeah, do you think your mother is proud of you Potter? How many times have you failed now?” I ask and I can see from his eyes that this hits a nerve. So I continue even though a few students have started to notice the altercation and stopped on their way to their classes to watch. Maybe hoping this might escalate.

“I bet she screamed when she died like the traitor that she is.”

His fist connects with my jaw and it’s almost like he’s struck a match against me. I light up and hit him back twice as hard. When he drops I watch him fall and wipe the blood away from my lips. I can feel one of my teeth come a little loose at the back from his punch. There is a loud gasp from the students standing around watching.

“Let’s go Malfoy before a Professor comes. You don’t want to get caught up in this,” Blaise warns but I continue staring down at Potter waiting for him to stand.

“This isn’t over,” he says, standing up and walking back the way we came. I smirk and pick up my bag. I glare at a group of second years staring open-mouthed at us until they turn on their heels and start moving.

“Let’s go,” I say to Blaise. He follows beside me as we make our way into potions.

“Maybe you should go and get that cut looked at?” Blaise comments as we take our seats at our work station. I wipe my mouth again and see that my lip is still bleeding. I ignore it.

“It’ll be fine,” I say as I watch the door for Granger. I wonder what kind of face she’ll make when she sees me. She eventually arrives with the weasel and hurries to her seat before she notices me. She stands still by her chair, dumping her bag on top as she takes in my bleeding lip. I wipe at it again, my sleeve covered it blotches of red. She furrows her brows together in confusion as she takes her seat, concern present in her eyes. I stare at her neck and remember how she smelt last night pressed against me.

“Look in a mirror recently Malfoy,” the weasel comments.

“Have you?” I ask back quick enough to earn a snigger from Blaise. The weasel ignores my comment and I smirk. But Granger continues watching me, searching my face for the reason why I have a busted lip. I merely stare at her, watching her face change expressions and emotions. Something about being able to cause her face to change so much always gets a rise out of me. I loved it even when I was younger. To be able to cause a reaction in her was always my goal when I attacked the golden trio. She was always so stoic so it made the reward twice as good.

When Slughorn calls the class to attention he starts to ramble on about today's assignment. Talking us through the instructions and what ingredients are going to be necessary from the greenhouse today. Granger takes notes but it’s not her usual fast-paced scribble as she stops several times to watch me from the corner of her eyes. As if I’m going to get into another fight if she doesn’t keep an eye on me. I imagine what other kinds of expressions I can get her to make.

“Mr Malfoy,” Slughorn calls and my eyes move to his in confusion. The whole class turns and gawks at me.

“Go to the bathroom at once, your lip is swelling up and bleeding,” he orders and I put my hand to my mouth. Suddenly I can feel the heat coming off of it. I hadn’t noticed it before. I roll my eyes at him as I swing around on the chair and stand up. I look at Granger once before leaving and her eyes are full of questions.

* * *

**Hermione’s Point of View.**

I watch as he leaves the classroom with his usually nonchalant walk. I can’t help but wonder at the cut on his lip and the marks starting to form on his right fist. Surely he had to have been in a fight but this early in the morning? And with who?

I turn to Ron in questioning but he just rolls his eyes at me. I reconstruct my face for him because of course I cannot be concerned about whatever activities Malfoy chooses to get himself involved in. For the next painfully slow ten minutes I try to focus on what Professor Slughorn is saying but I can’t help listening out for the noise of the door opening to alert me that Malfoy is coming back. A small part of me wants to go to Slughorn after class and ask for Ron and me to be reassigned a different work station. Malfoy is far too distracting to be around during class. Knowing that he’s just across the table from me makes it almost impossible to give my full attention to class. Sixty per cent of me is always watching and monitoring everything he does from the corner of my eye.

Ron jots down the list of ingredients we need from the greenhouse.

“You want to go? Or should I?” He asks, waving the piece of paper in his hand.

“No you go, I’ll get set up here,” I assure him, watching the door again. Something is off. It’s been almost fifteen minutes now. Where could he be? I don’t think Slughorn would even notice if he decided never to come back to class. I look over at Harry’s work station and notice that he’s not there either. My stomach starts to do flops. Solid realisation forms and doubt creeps into my mind. What if Malfoy and Harry got in a fight? Would he say anything about me just to get at him? Where could Harry be? He never misses potions. He’s one of slughorns best students because of that stupid textbook he got. I gulp down some rising panic as I raise my hand.

“Yes, Miss Granger?”

“Sir, is it okay if I use the bathroom?” I ask.

“Hmm, I’d prefer if you would use the restroom during the break times, but if you must,” he says motioning towards the door. I thank him with a shy smile and leave the room trying not to make eye contact with Blaise. Ron is going to be really confused when he gets back from the Greenhouse but I have to find Harry.

Once outside the room, I make my way quickly across the bridge and shiver. I couldn’t exactly grab my jacket on the walk out of the classroom. Slughorn would find that far too suspicious. It’s especially cold today. I pull open the double doors and head towards the common room. I’ll check there first and then I’ll check the quidditch pitch.

At the bottom of the hallway, I hear a strange noise as the door to the boy's bathroom swings open and Harry emerges, drenched in sweat. He stumbles out, clutching his wand in one hand. His eyes look far away and there's a horrible expression on his face.

“Harry! What’s going on? Where were you?” I ask when I get close to him. Up close I can see his eyes look frozen still, unblinking.

“Hermione! What are you doing here?” He asks, shoving his wand back into the pocket of his robes.

“I was looking for you. You weren’t in Slughorns class. Hey, wait!” I call after him as he tries to push past me.

“Harry whats going on?” I ask, pulling on his arm. He pulls it out of my grip.

“Go back to class Hermione. Nothing is wrong,” he says as he turns and walks away. He passes the entrance to the bridge and I know he’s not going to Slughorns class. An unpleasant panic rises inside me suddenly as I look towards the boy's bathroom feeling like I already know what’s to come.

Outside the sun moves behind the clouds and I watch as it disappears in a long strip down the hallway as if zeroing in on the boy's bathroom. The closer I get to the door the more I hear the sound of rushing water. I knock on the door and call out to see if there’s anyone in there first before I enter.

When I get inside I step down into a puddle of water that reaches up to the top of my shoes. I sigh inwardly as the water leaks in and drenches my socks. I shake my foot out as I lift it only to step into another deep puddle. Over by the large ornate mirrors, the main foundation area has been destroyed and the water is jutting upwards at an alarming speed. I look down at the pool gathering underneath and I notice the water coming from the right side looks a little redder than expected.

I call out again but the sound of rushing water seems the swallow the sound of my voice. I move over to the right side of the fountain as a pair of feet come into view. Panic rises again and I have to steady myself to keep upright.

I walk the whole way around the fountain and that’s when I see him lying in the puddle on the ground, water almost up to his ears. His robe hangs across a broken washbasin above his head. Leaving him wearing only a shirt that is mostly drenched in blood. Two large cuts are swiped across his chest. They’re bleeding but not that much which makes me realise that they must be deep. Most of the blood has come from the smaller cuts dotted around his chest and arms.

My legs shake terribly as I drop myself down in the puddle beside him, soaking all of my pants. I place my hand on his chest and I watch as it shakes. His breathing is slow and weak and the loss of blood swirling in the water between us has paled his face to the point he looks almost Blue. He looks almost dead.

“Malfoy,” I whisper, shaking him by the shoulder. Before I notice it I’m in complete shock. My body parts barely reacting to my brain functions as I sit frozen staring down at his corpse-like appearance.

“Malfoy, please,” I beg, shaking him harder this time. “Please,” I say, starting to cry. “It’s me.”

I watch as his eyes open partly, flickering a little before opening fully. He grunts, clearing his throat. Tears stream down my face as he recognises me.

“Malfoy, what happened? What can I do?” I ask, taking his hand in mine and squeezing until my hand hurts from the force.

“Please, I don’t know what to do. There’s so much blood,” I say my face shaking horribly as I plead for him to tell me what to do.

“Get snape,” he murmurs, his eyes shut again. I stand, trembling as I will my legs to move. When I get outside of the bathroom I move as fast as my legs will allow me, thanking everything and anything that Snape's office is only around the corner. I burst in the door, dripping water all over the floor catching myself before I slip from the force.

“Miss Granger! How dare you just barge into my office like this! 50 points from Gryffindor-“

“It’s Malfoy!” I scream, frantically, waving for him to follow me. All fear of him gone from my mind when Malfoy might be dying in the bathroom down the hall.

“Please, hurry!” I urge Professor Snape as he stares at me in bewilderment before eventually getting out of his chair. I practically sprint down the hallway back to the bathroom as Snape follows at his usual pace, clearing not noting the severity of the situation. I drop down beside Malfoy as I hear Snape enter the bathroom.

“It’s okay, Malfoy. He’s here,” I whisper close to his ear but his eyes are still closed. Snape steps around the fountain awkwardly trying to lift his robe so it won’t get wet. When he sees Malfoy on the ground he drops his robe.

“What happened here? Did you do this?” Snape demands.

“No of course not! I just found him like this,” I say, trying to keep my tears back. “Can you please do something he’s lost a lot of blood,” I beg. Snape drops down beside me and notes the marks on Malfoys chest, recognition in his eyes.

Snape starts to chant a spell I haven’t heard before. After a couple of seconds, the blood pooling in the water starts to slowly run back into Malfoy’s body and I watch as the colour comes back into his cheek and his eyes flutter open a little. He gives my hand a squeeze. I sigh loudly in relief and wipe the tears off my cheeks as I drop my head down beside his, resting my cheek against his.

“I thought you were dead,” I whisper into his ear as one of my tears drops onto his cheek. Malfoy lifts his head up as he sits upright and leans back against the broken water fountain. He looks down as his ripped shirt and fingers the large holes for a second before staring at me.

Suddenly the air in the room changes from life and death to a kind of awkward realisation. He looks at Snape and then back at me and I frantically wipe away the tears.

“Go back to class Granger,” Malfoy says in a monotone and I look at Snape’s stoic expression out of the corner of my eye.

“Yes, Miss Granger. Your services are no longer needed. Back to class at once,” Professor Snape orders. I drop my eyes under Snape's heavy voice and stand.

I look at where the blood and cuts were just located on Malfoy’s chest and no matter if they’re not there anymore it’s a sight I know that I will never forget.

As I make my way back to the dormitory to get a fresh set of uniform I can’t help but feel the weight of what just happened. Had Harry done that to Malfoy? And for what reason? What had Malfoy said or done to provoke it? But it was not the fact that Malfoy and Harry had gotten in a fight, it was the fact that because of the situation we’re in I imagine it won’t be the only time Malfoy or Harry will find themselves in that situation. There is a war coming and there will be lives and blood lost until there is a victor. Whether it be Harry or Malfoy’s side.

Seeing Malfoy like that has made me believe that this can no longer continue between us. It half killed me just now to see him cut up like that I can’t imagine what would happen if I was on the other side of the battlefield and I saw him die on the opposite side. There would be no words to explain to anyone why his death would destroy me.

At what point had I reached this mindset. When had he gotten his claws this deep into me and how could I have allowed myself to let it happen. When had I fallen for him in return? It must have been so quick and easy because I didn’t even feel it happening. Perhaps it had been there this entire time but seeing him lying almost dead on the bathroom floor had opened my eyes to it.

But I cannot allow this to continue. I can’t be in this war and worry about two people who are on opposite sides. How can I fight alongside Harry and pray every day that we don’t run into Malfoy out there? Because I know I wouldn’t be able to hurt him if the time came. I can’t go into war with this weakness. But am I too far gone now?

* * *

When McGonagall leaves her room at 10:15 pm I wait eagerly by the door for him, leaning against her desk. If he thinks he can avoid coming tonight I will personally go to the Slytherin common room and make a sceptical of myself.

I had avoided Harry for the rest of the day because I wasn’t sure how I felt towards him after what he had done to Malfoy. There was no if or maybe about it. He had come from the same bathroom I had found Malfoy in so it only made sense that Harry had done it.

I exhale deeply, preparing myself for the war that’s to come. I have to end this properly this time before it gets out of hand. It is time to really speak to him. I try to compartmentalise my thoughts and emotions but he pushes the door open and interrupts my thought process. My mind suddenly goes blank as he enters and stares at me. I can’t remember what I was just trying to do.

“What were you doing in the boy's bathroom today, Granger? That the kind of thing you’re into?” Malfoy starts with a deep smirk and my thoughts finally come back to me and settle.

“We need to talk,” I start. Malfoy walks around McGonagall's table and sits in the chair staring up at me leaning against the table. His hand resting on the armrest touches my thigh.

“Getting right too it, huh?” he smiles. I brush my hair out of my face and tuck it behind each ear.

“I want to know what happened today?” I say, trying to keep my voice even. I don’t want to play any more games right now.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says batting his hand at me.

“That’s not the question I asked?” I repeat more sternly this time. He addresses my expression and smirks again.

“It was just some pent up shit with Potter. No big deal,” he finally admits. I weigh this over in my head somewhat glad that it wasn’t to do with me at least.

“Malfoy, you were bleeding to death on the ground when I found you. I thought you were going to die!” I exclaim.

“Were you worried about me?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Cut the bullshit!”

“_Were you_?” He asks again dryly, staring at me so intently I have to look away.

“Of course I was,” I mumble, meeting his eyes again. He stands up from the chair and cups my neck in his hands, caressing me. He brings his face down close to mine and kisses my neck. I push him back hard and his foot stumbles over the chair and he hits back into the stone wall. He starts to laugh as he rights himself.

“I forgot how strong you are,” he says, still laughing.

“Malfoy, please. I want to talk properly. I don’t want to play this game anymore. I need answers this time otherwise I’m walking out that door and I won’t be coming back. I’m serious this time,” I say as sharply as I can. He stares down at me questioningly but shrugs.

“Then ask the questions,” he says.

“You said the other day that you wanted to save me as a way to make up for all the things you’ve been asked to do. What are they?” I ask, eyeing him.

“I can’t answer that,” he says honestly. I nod slowly unsure.

“Are they bad?”

“They’re not good, Granger,” he answers sharply.

“Are you in danger?” I ask, watching him run a hand through his hair.

“Always.”

“Can you just not do it? Whatever it is?”

“He would kill me,” he says quietly. Malfoy sits back into McGonagall’s chair and cups his forehead. I want to comfort him but I don’t know how to.

“Are you scared?” I ask, noticing how tense his shoulders are. He drops his hands from his forehead and looks up at me with a smug expression.

“Not when I’m around you,” he says. “With you being so strong of course,” he adds smugly and I push his arm. He laughs. I exhale some of the tension that conversation has brought, away.

“Granger come on,” Malfoy comments.

“What?”

“You said you wanted to talk. So talk. Stop avoiding it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ask the real questions,” he purposes.

“I want it to be over, Malfoy,” I start. He smirks again and stands from the chair, glowering down at me. He leans down and presses his forehead to mine and I put my hands against the end of the desk to keep steady.

“No you don’t,” he says clearly.

“After seeing you lying half-dead there today I do. I can’t go into this war worrying about the day that I see you on the other side. I could never face you,” I explain.

“I can take care of myself pretty well Granger you don’t have to worry about me,” he says nonchalantly. He moves his hands slowly back up to my neck and lifts my head up so we’re looking at each other eye to eye. I look deeply into his stormy grey eyes and try to imagine the pain of seeing him dead.

“I don’t want this,” I say but it comes out like a whisper against his face. He smiles down at me. His eyes moving from mine to my lips.

“Granger we both know the question and the answer. We both know the answer so why are you even saying that?” he asks, his lips so close to mine.

“Why me?” I blurt out. He half-smiles and touches his forehead against mine again.

“I love to make you angry,” he chuckles and can’t help but laugh a little at his response.

“You’re very good at it,” I say sarcastically.

“Are you going to ask _the question_?” he asks, looking down at me with raised eyebrows. I know exactly what he means but I can’t bring myself to say the words. All of sudden I want to go back to playing the game I’m not ready for this to be real. I want to run away and pretend none of this ever happened. Back under my mothers old blanket where I feel safe.

“No,” I murmur.

“Hmm, why not?” he says drawing circles with his nose against my cheek.

“I’m scared,” I admit, unable to lie anymore. The wall between us is completely down now and I can’t make myself lie anymore.

“Do you want _me_ to say it?” he asks, meeting my eyes again and there's just conviction in them it makes me want to explode. I shake my head and he laughs.

“Why did you give in to this so easily?” I ask, instead and he smirks at my obvious aversion.

“I’m selfish Granger. I want what I want. Simple as,” he says and this time his lips brush so close to mine I think I might actually explode. I can practically taste him and the warmth of them is so inviting. A tear escapes my eye and runs down my cheek.

“Don’t cry,” he whispers. “Nobody said it would be easy,” he explains.

“Yeah,” I say swallowing the lump forming in my throat. “ But nobody said it would be _this_ hard,” I murmur back.

“Ask me the _question_, Granger. I'm ready to tell you now,” he says, taking my hands in his, lacing his fingers through mine. I gulp and gather enough energy to speak.

“What did you see in my future?” I finally ask. He smiles.

“I didn’t lie about the whole Ron thing. I did see you die if you stay with him,” he says and I nod. Suddenly I feel embarrassed unsure if we had both been on the same page.

“But,” he interjects and I hold my breath. “I saw _two_ futures,” he starts. I nod, beckoning him to continue.

“and you forgive me for all of this,” he says with a smirk. “When I saw it I tried to fight so hard against what I saw because I didn’t want my life to be dictated by it.”

“And now?” I ask, unsure.

“Now, I want it all right this second. Because I would gladly die for just a taste of what I saw,” he admits and my pulse starts to rise.

“What did you see, Malfoy?” I ask surer this time and he smiles in response, kissing my cheek.

“I saw us, Granger, as we are now. But years in the future,” he says finally and my heart flops.

“You already knew that?” he asks and I nod slowly. I had known it. Somewhere deep inside I _had_ known it. A part of my subconscious had put it together but had not let it come to the front of my mind for fear that it might make me shut down if I wasn’t ready for the information. But everything from the moment he had walked into the room and I had first asked him what he saw, I just knew.

He encircles me in his arms and pulls me tight against him. I wrap my arms around his neck. He faces turns serious as he holds my cheek in his warm hand.

“Granger I’m sorry,” he says so seriously it makes me feel as light as air. “For _everything,_” he adds.

“It’s okay,” I assure him, pushing the hair out of his face.

“This won’t be easy and I can’t guarantee that we’ll be able to be together now. It could be a few years after the war before there’s even a possibility for us,” Malfoy says and I nod. I had known that. I wasn’t under the impression that we were suddenly going to start skipping down the hallway holding hands or anything.

“There are roles we have to play first. You know that” he says.

“Yeah, I know.”

Malfoy draws a line with his nose up my neck and kisses behind my ear.

“Granger?”

“Hmm,” I mumble, unable to think straight with his mouth against my neck.

“I will try but I can’t promise you’ll always like me as much as you do right now. There are things I have to do that you won’t understand but maybe when we get to a different place and time I can explain them,” Malfoy says against my neck. I know this is still a serious conversation but it’s so hard to focus when he’s holding me like this.

“Do you understand?”

“Hmm,” I mumble again against his neck. He chuckles a little.

“Just try and remember this the next time we fight okay?”

“Okay,” I murmur and it elicits another chuckle from him.

“So stubborn. I hope our son doesn’t inherit that from you,” Malfoy says against my neck and I freeze. Our son. I grab his face in my hands and search his eyes widely but I only see conviction.

“A son?” I ask. He nods. Tears stream down my face unrelenting now.

“Now,” he smirks. “Do you still not want this?” he asks, tilting his head at me sarcastically. I laugh wiping away the tears with the back of my hand. Maybe in a few days or hours when we’re fighting again I’ll wish I would have said something different. But how could I?

“I want this,” I say and finally his lips capture mine, pushing me against the wall. He kisses me so fiercely and passionately against the cold stone wall and all I can think of is how dangerous this whole situation has just become. I know what I thought was hard before is about to seem like child's play compared with the challenges to come. But I open my mouth wider and invite him in deeper. Because we are magnets and there’s no force in the world that can stop them.


	10. You're not alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!  
Heres the next chapter. Sorry, it took so long to update I've been pretty busy the last few days. I tend to start writing super late in the night as well so that's not always a good thing!  
Anyways let me know what you think? If there are any errors in the chapter I'm sure it's super late now and I'm too tired to go through it more thoroughly.  
Much Love <3

**Draco’s Point of View**

I was told before that if you put a name on something and recognise it for what it is then it cannot hurt you. That is not always the case. So, when Granger and I speak it is better for both of us if I am vague. But in that thought, I don’t take into account how intelligent she is and I guess that has always been my own downfall. Undervaluing her intelligence to pick up on and pick apart everything I do. But this time I think she’s on the same page as I am. We don’t put a name on this thing that we do. Just recognise and understand that we’re both willing to be a part of it.

I can tell that it somewhat bothers her to have to live like that but she tries to hide it well. This is not a common ground for either of us and there is an understanding that we have to just take what we can get. _Just be_. Without question and that is hard for her. Hell, that is even hard for me. But it is easier when I look at her because it helps quell some of the panics inside me. But even she can’t take it away completely.

I want it to be finished with, to finally be done with it all but I can’t seem to grasp it properly. Like I’m just about to break the surface and inhale that breath my lungs are craving desperately but I can’t quite get there and I’m left gasping. No matter what has to be done I just want to get to a time that when she looks at me, I know that she’s not looking at a monster. I can’t guarantee that that is true right this second.

Snape enters his office finally as I lean awkwardly against the pillar. He whips his robe around as he stands in front of his desk. He gives me a particular stoic expression as he takes a seat and motions for me to sit also. When I refuse, he continues to stare until I eventually agree and take a seat.

“Your father has written me,” he starts. I raise my eyes to meet his in confusion. My father hadn’t written to me so I find it peculiar that he would write to professor Snape.

“Given your second failed attempt that is,” he adds. I exhale deeply and bring my hands up to cup my forehead.

“If you would just let me help-

“I don’t need your fucking help!” I scream as the anger at last nights failed attempt and the second-hand embarrassment are swirling at the forefront of my mind.

“I am still your professor! Do not speak to me with that attitude boy!” Snape yells back but his voice holds a heavy superiority complex.

“Look I don’t need your help,” I say again, softer this time. Snape resettles his hands on his lap.

“Your father seems to think you do. I agreed that I was to assist you in this,” Snape says. I roll my eyes at him.

“I made the unbreakable vow, Draco,” he adds roughly.

“Nobody asked you to do that for me!” I call back.

“Your mother did,” Snape says and my anger dissipates slightly. I think of all the months my mother had spent by herself in the house when my father was in Azkaban. I couldn’t stand being in that giant empty mansion alone with her so I often made use of my broom just to get away from it all.

“That choice is between you and my mother. I didn’t ask you to do that. I was chosen for this. Me! Above anyone else,” I snap back at him. If I do this then my family can hold favour with the Dark Lord and undo the wrong that my father has done. Then I can guarantee that they are safe. Those who hold favour with the Dark Lord aren’t often asked to do his bidding. Maybe my mother can have a quiet life then. Heaven knows she’s had a hard one until now.

“Such strong words from a scared little boy,” Snape says in his low, twisting voice. I roll my eyes at him again.

“Nevertheless, your lack of progression has been noted by those who are watching.” He says.

“Well, it’s not exactly an easy task,” I comment.

“Then let me help you,” Snape interjects. I glower.

“Your father thinks it would be best if I help you in another manner,” Snape says. I crease my eyebrows at him.

“One that you might consider useful,” he says suggestingly. “Given your circumstances,” he adds.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, anger rising inside me. He ignores me.

“Your father thinks it would be beneficial for you to learn Occulmency,” Snape says and I clench my hands together. I hadn’t thought about that before and suddenly the room feels a lot smaller as if the many bookcases filled with old tattered potions books have crept closer, shrinking the space.

“He did?” I ask.

“Yes, given that you’ve failed twice already, it can prevent a legilimens from searching through your thoughts and figuring out what you’re up too,” Snape says matter of factly.

“No one is suspicious,” I implore but Snape looks down at me, his long back hair hitting the corners of his jaw as he moves.

“You’ve haven’t been the best at covering your tracks, Mr Malfoy. Believe me, people have noticed,” he warns. I shrug and fold my arms against my chest.

“It won’t matter in the end,” I comment. Snape scoffs. “If you even make it that far with the rate you’re going,” he chastises me.

“Look what are you trying to get at?” I say, angrier this time. He must know my patience is wavering.

“I will teach you the art of Occulamency so that what is in your head is safe. Impenetrable, should someone like the Dark Lord ever search your mind you will be able to hide _certain_ things from him,” Snape says and his tone catches me. I search his eyes and something in them tells me he knows what certain things I would try and hide.

“Fine but I have to get to potions now,” I comment, checking my wristwatch.

“I’ve already informed Professor Slughorn that you will be missing the double potions class today,” Snape informs me. I curse under my breath. It’s the last potion class I have with Granger until Next Tuesday.

“Wait…” I start. “You want to start now? As in right now?” I ask, stepping up from the chair.

“Yes, the sooner the better,” Snape says. I look around the room as if one of the books is going to burst from the shelves with an excuse for me. I don’t know what another day or two of procrastination would have bought me. If Snape is as proficient in Occulmancey as he is in potions than anything in my mind is open to him. Including Granger.

“Why so pale, Malfoy? Something to hide?” Snape chides. He knows. Of course, he knows. I didn’t exactly explain away the reason Granger was the one who found me after the fight with Potter all that well.

“I don’t want to do this right now,” I say, my tone very low. Snape’s face returns to his normal stoic expression.

“You can’t put it off any longer, Mr Malfoy. Prepare yourself,” Snape encourages.

“Wait! How am I supposed to prepare?” I shout frantically as Snape raises his wand. If he’s been hinting at Granger what will he even say when he sees what’s in my head? Will he continue to want to teach me Occulmency? Will he inform my father how far off the beaten path I have walked?

“Wait! I’m not ready!” I scramble as a last-ditch effort to stop the inevitable but Snape starts to swirl his wand.

“Clear your mind,” he explains but as I watch his wand finish its movement and the words leave Snape’s mouth all I can think about is Granger.

When the feeling starts, she is the first thing that I see. She is the first thing we both see. Much like the glimpse of her future, I saw in the pensive we drop down into the memory. Into my memory as if I’m watching it. I can feel Snape beside me and when I turn, he’s there watching also.

We are back to that night in the classroom when Blaise and Pansy had almost caught us. Snape and I are upon the teacher’s podium staring directly at the memory of Granger and I hiding behind the bookcase and there’s nothing I can do to make it stop. I look over my shoulder and watch as his face squeezes together as he watches us. I turn back to us and I watch Granger with my arms encircled tight around her. My head starts to feel light as the image blurs and Snape and I move to another memory.

I’m much younger in this memory as I listen behind a slightly ajar door as my mother cries in the next room close to the hearth. I watch the younger version of myself as I kneel down beside the door and listen to the noises of my mother in the next room. I can’t exactly remember what she was crying about but I imagine it had something to do with my father. It almost always did have something to do with him.

When Snape and I move again the next memory is more recent. A few months ago now, in fact. When it starts to materialise, I try to think of what Snape said. I try with all my strength to clear my mind. To think of nothing and especially not her. For a second it seems to work as the memory becomes really bright to the point you can’t make out anything. But it doesn’t stop the sound coming and once it starts a part of me wants to stay. Just to see it again, even if it means Snape also see it.

When I stop resisting, we’re back into the glimpse I saw of Granger’s future. The one where we’re in the bed together. I step forward towards the image but Snape extends his cane and catches my shoulder before I can get to close to the bedposts. Something about the action causes my stomach to squirm as it reminds me of my father.

“Don’t,” his voice says amongst the noise of our voices on the bed. I step back, away from the bed but something about seeing that part of her future causes my mind to wonder about everything else I saw. And like that as If I am suddenly in control of it we move through the entire glimpse of her future and I cannot stop it. Because I don’t feel the fear I felt at the start when I’m watching it. I feel something different that I can’t quite place. I almost forget Snape is there. That is until I see Granger’s other future.

Bellatrix leans down, carving into Granger's arm as her screams echo loudly around the Manor’s living room. The room my mother had been crying in not too long ago. When Granger is finally dead I see the house-elf make his way out of the kitchen, dragging her body back through the double doors and the image causes sweat to break out on my back and neck. My knees feel weak beneath me and the fact that I haven’t eaten since yesterday morning doesn’t quite help.

Snape considers this memory before moving onto another one, slower this time and I can tell this will be the last one. Snape himself is growing tired from the excursion and I can tell it takes a lot out of the caster as well. The last is the one that shall ruin me. It’s the memory from a few nights ago when Granger told me she wanted it too. I watch as we kiss in Professor McGonagall’s classroom against the glow of the flickering candle lights. The memory drops and I fall back into my chair in Snape’s classroom.

I drop my head down to rest on top of my knees as I focus on not throwing up. The heat rises in my throat and I breathe deeply until it all passes. When I finally look up Snape he’s standing with his back to me, staring out the window. I wait for him to speak hoping that he never does. But of course, that is not his style.

“Do you know what would happen if the Dark Lord saw what I just saw?” he asks, finally. But he continues staring out the window as he speaks.

I sigh, knowing exactly what he’s getting at.

“And what are you going to do about what you just saw?” I ask, wanting to get straight to the point.

“Your suicide mission with the Granger girl is your own mission, Mr Malfoy. One that will fail,” Snape answers.

“How can you be so sure?” I ask, wiping the sweat forming on my forehead away with the back of my sleeve.

“Because you can’t have _both_,” Snape says, his voice low and solemn. I crease my eyebrows together as I watch his face tense a little.

“I’ve already seen it in her future!” I point out.

“The future is never set in stone, Mr Malfoy. That was her future at the moment of seeing it. A lot has changed between then and now. The future is always changing,” Snape informs me. I had thought about this before. It wasn’t news to me. I knew the future was always changing.

“But it’s still a possibility. If it can happen once then it can always happen, right?”

“That’s a child’s answers,” Snape snaps, grabbing his robe as he turns swiftly, the ends swirling outwards.

“It’s not!” I argue.

“You can’t have both and you’re endangering that girl’s life. Do you think she’ll ever be able to look at you after you kill Dumbledore?” Snape questions as he brings his hands down on either side of the table. His eyes search mine intensely and it feels like he’s back in my mind again.

“If the Dark Lord saw what I just saw we wouldn’t be having this conversation because you would be dead and the Granger girl would be next,” Snape informs me.

“You are playing a child’s game if you think you can eat your cake and have it too,” Snape says.

I sit there with my head in my hands as Snape continues to chastise me saying things that I already knew but chose to ignore for the sake of my sanity. But now that he’s bombarding me with them it’s hard to ignore it anymore. Is it so wrong to have wanted something for me? Just once. Must I always be doing something to benefit someone else or my family’s reputation? Will I always have the carry the weight of my father's mistakes?

“Is this why you’ve been so distracted? You’ve been playing house with the Granger girl? How could you be so stupid?” Snape shouts this time.

“I have not been distracted!” I exclaim.

“I almost have the vanishing cabinet working. The one connected to the other one in Borgin and Burkes,” I say, raising my voice.

“You’re not understanding what I’m saying Draco,” Snape beckons, more softly this time.

“What?”

“You can’t _have both_,” he explains again.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“If you go through with your mission you need to forget about whatever this thing you had with Granger was. She can’t be apart of that life. You could never protect her from that,” he comments.

“She would die,” he adds.

“No, because I’ve taken the necessary steps to prevent that outcome,” I say.

“What is it you said? If It can happen once then it can always happen?” Snape says twisting my words.

“If she can die in one future then she can still die in another one,” he adds. I lean back against the chair as the weight of his words hit me. I had not thought of it that way. I think of Bellatrix leaning over Granger’s body as she screams.

“You need to think about this,” Snape says seriously. “You cannot begin to imagine the weight of someone’s death on your shoulders. Let alone two people,” he adds. That I had thought about before. I had hoped saving Granger would be a way to _make up_ for Dumbledores death. But I can see what Snape is getting at. I understand now how reckless I have been. How stupid and childish my desires.

“What do you want me to do?” I ask, slightly broken at this point. Between the mental strain it took trying to keep Snape out of my mind at the start and the weight of this conversation I don’t have much left in me to argue.

“Focus on your mission,” he starts and I look up at him expectantly.

“Let the Granger girl live her life. She doesn’t need to be involved in all of this,” he says finally and I nod slowly, turning towards the door. I stand up and make my way towards it.

“What’s my other choice?” I ask, my voice low. I squeeze my hands together to stop them from shaking as I look over my shoulder at him for his reply. He drops his head.

“The Dark Lord doesn’t take kindly to deserters,” he says solemnly.

“Naturally,” I joke, but the smirk doesn’t reach my eyes.

“Why are you saying all this?” I ask throwing my arms out dramatically.

“I can see if you continue the way you are that things are going to end badly for you and for her,” Snape replies honestly.

“And what? You suddenly care about what happens to Granger?” I laugh.

“No,” he starts. “But I can tell you do,” he says, his tone final.

“Come back tomorrow. We’ll try again,” Snape says and returns his attention back to his desk. I nod and open the door, shutting it soundlessly behind me.

I move through the crowds of students that are moving around the halls between second and third period. Granger is in a double potions class now so I’m guaranteed not to run into her. I pass Pansy in the hallway near the ground floor staircase as she eyes me cautiously. I simply give her my generic smirk as I pass. When I round the final corner, I take the stairs two at a time as I make my way to third-floor bathrooms. The ones that hardly anyone ever uses. When I enter, I’m not surprised to find all the stalls completely empty. I fly around the first bathroom stall and fall to my knees, vomiting copiously into the toilet. When my stomach is finally empty, I feel at peace.

A calm serenity washes over me as I fall back onto the cold stone floor and stare up at the intricate design on the ceiling. I rub soothing circles on my stomach hoping to ease some of the knots and cramps. I can feel the layer of sweat on my skin against the cold air coming in from the open windows above the sinks. I flick my wand, closing them all.

A voice creeps around the stall towards me. Moaning Myrtle appears and I sigh in aggravation.

“Draco Malfoy,” she sings as she appears around the corner.

“Not now,” I demand as her annoyingly angelic voice laughs.

“What’s the matter now? I haven’t seen you in a long time,” she chimes. In my confusion, I try to push past her and end up swiping my arm through her completely.

“Oh, that tickles,” she giggles. “You’re ever so handsome,” she comments. I roll my eyes at her as I wash my face in the cold water from the sink. When I glance at my reflection it sets my teeth on edge. I look far worse than I had expected.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” Moaning Myrtle asks and I look at her.

“What’s that face for?” she asks and I let my face drop away from her inquiring eyes. Do I have a girlfriend? Is that what she was?

* * *

**Hermione’s Point of View**

I stay late in the library finishing up a charms assignment and writing out notes for Harry and Ron. I hope in a way these notes might make up for my absence lately. Harry and I have still not spoken properly since that day I found him leaving the boys lavatories. I don’t know what I would even say to bring up the subject.

When the librarian dims the candlelight in the library I gather my books and pack them away into my bookbag. It’s Wednesday and not our usual day of meeting up, but I can’t help making my way towards McGonagall’s classroom. Malfoy wasn’t in potions today or any other class from what I gathered. Blaise ended up partnering up with Ron and I and I can say that it was much more uncomfortable than I imagined it was going to be.

I listen at McGonagall’s door and I hear a muffled sound of parchment moving telling me that she’s still in there and the classroom isn’t free yet. I decide to take a lap around the first floor. It’s almost 10 pm she’ll have to finish up soon. When I reach Slughorn’s classroom door I keep going all the way to the two double doors leading to the bridge. That’s where I find him.

I look through the double doors and see Malfoy sitting on the edge with his legs hanging out over the side of the bridge. From here it almost looks like he might jump and that sets my heart beating at a rapid speed. What is he doing? A strong wind might unsettle his seating or footing and he could fall.

I pull open the door and step outside. If he’s noticed he hasn’t given me any indication. I look at his posture, his face and the way he holds himself and it tells me that something is wrong. Malfoy isn’t always the most open person so naturally, I’ve learned to read his body language for an indicator of how he’s actually feeling.

I call out his name against the wind but it seems to swallow it up. The wind is exceptionally loud and strong today but thankfully it’s not that cold. As I make my way over to him, I think how easy it is to find him sometimes. How it doesn’t take me long and how he is usually either here or at McGonagall’s as if we have an unspoken bond to stay around these areas in case the other needs us. I know I do it myself without really knowing I do it.

When I reach him he jolts a little when he notices me. I guess he really hadn’t seen me walking across the bridge to him.

“What are you doing?” I ask, motioning to him sitting so close to the edge.

“Just sitting,” he comments, his voice low. I gulp a little, surprised by his solemn tone.

“Do you maybe want to go somewhere else,” I ask, shocked at my own bluntness. Malfoy smirks.

“I want to stay here, Granger,” he comments. I nod, setting my bookbag on the edge of the bridge. I look up at him. His hair blows all around his face in this wind.

“You weren’t in potions today,” I say for lack of something to say. The tone is weird. Malfoy is weird. I want him to say something smart to put me on ease. Hell, I want to even fight because anything is better than the way he’s acting now.

“I had other things I needed to take care of,” he replies quietly, the wind almost swallowing it all up.

“Okay, and did you take care of them?” I ask. He turns his head slowly at me and searches my face for a second before twisting his mouth.

“Not yet,” he replies.

“What is it? Maybe I can help?” I ask, raising my voice. Maybe whatever is wrong with him I can help him. But he just laughs loudly in response, lifting his head so his voice carries away into the sky.

“So helpful Granger. So much like you,” he says sarcastically.

“Don’t be mean,” I say, hurt by his words.

“Why does everyone think I need help today? Am I that useless or something?” he asks, throwing his legs back over the bridge and jumping down.

“I don’t think you’re useless,” I say.

“Enough, Granger,” he says rubbing his temples. I let my bookbag fall to the ground.

“What’s wrong with you!” I say louder this time.

“You’re pissing me off with all these questions!” he shouts back.

“I’m just trying to help you!”

“I don’t need anybody’s fucking help! I’m so sick of everyone offering to help me!” he screams, his face turning red. I breathe heavily as I watch the anger leave his face, settling into stoic resolve.

“Well then what do you want?” I ask, slowly, more quietly this time. He steps closer and looks deep into my eyes.

“For there to be a third option,” he answers. I feel confused.

“What do you mean?” I ask unsure. Something is definitely wrong, definitely and terribly wrong. I can tell by the haze over his eyes. He’s looking at me but he’s also looking past me.

“I made a mistake,” he says finally.

“With?” I ask cautiously.

“With this,” he says pointing between us. I shake my head in disbelief.

“You don’t get to do that,” I start.

“Granger…”

“Don’t!” I warn, pointing my finger furiously in his face.

“I wasn’t thinking straight before,” he says, trying to take my hand. I pull my hand away from his sharply.

“Don’t do this,” I say, warning.

“Do you have any idea how stupid this is?” he asks. I raise my hands in aggravation.

“What happened today? Why did you miss potions?” I ask.

“What?” he asks.

“Something happened that changed your mind. You were singing a completely different tune only a few days ago, Malfoy. What happened?” I demand.

“I talked to Snape,” he answers.

“You told Snape!” I shout in disbelief.

“He knew,” he replies.

“So you’re just going to give up at the first hurdle?” I ask.

“Granger I wouldn’t even make the jump,” he answers smartly.

“Don’t be a coward, Malfoy,” I implore but the panic is starting to set in. I didn’t think he would want to pull out this early. I had known a conversation like this was bound to come up but not this soon. I’m not prepared for it.

“I’m not being a coward. I’m just looking at things properly for once,” he says.

“Maybe you’re looking too closely,” I suggest.

“Maybe you’re not looking at all, Granger. If you were you’d understand what I’m saying is true,” he says.

“What are you saying? No bullshit this time! Tell me how you really feel, Malfoy!” I bark. He twists the end of his jumper between his thumb and forefinger as he searches for the words. I wait, terribly impatiently.

“You were the one who said there's a line in the sand, Granger,” he admits.

“Yes, only if we decide to draw one.”

“No, that’s not true. It’s already been drawn and you know that. We didn’t draw it. The sides we’re on did,” he answers back quickly. I shut my mouth and clench my teeth.

“So what? Snape said something and now it’s just- we’re just…done?” I ask, trying to keep my composure. He runs his tongue over his top lip and the act is so sensual I can’t help but stare.

“I think it would...”

“No!” I shout. “I want to hear _what_ you want, not what you think,” I demand.

“I want you to be safe. I want you to have a happy life, Granger. I want you to be far away from all the shit that I have to do. Because I can’t promise that it won’t touch you. I can’t promise that it won’t tarnish the way you see me,” he explains and I bite my tongue.

“Yano I was doing pretty well up until now,” I say and he smirks slightly.

“Granger, I can’t do it anymore. I’m sorry,” he says, stepping towards me. He leans down and picks up my book bag, handing it to me. I take it from him and throw it back down on the ground in dramatic fashion. He smirks and rolls his eyes as he takes a deep breath.

“Are you done?” I ask, watching him. He creases his eyebrows together and swipes his hair back in a swift movement.

“Do I get to speak now?” I ask. He nods.

“Well that was all bullshit,” I say and he snorts.

“Granger if the Dark Lord knew of this, he would kill me and then you,” Malfoy says, his tone serious again. I roll my eyes at him.

“And what? I already knew that from the start. I haven’t walked into this blind Malfoy,” I explain.

“No, I think that we have, actually. I think that we jumped into this too quickly without really thinking about the consequences,” Malfoy states.

“Maybe you did, Malfoy. I knew what I was getting myself involved in. I have a lot on the lines here too. It’s not just you. How do you think my friends would react if I told them? I am risking my two best friends for you and yet I’m not being a coward!”

“I’m not being a coward, Granger. Fuck!” Malfoy shouts.

“Why are you so afraid?” I ask, moving a step closer. His pupils dilate as I place my hand against his chest.

“If anything happened to you because of me, Granger. I couldn’t live with myself. This path I have to walk I can only do it alone,” he explains.

“That’s bullshit!”

“You can’t just say bullshit for stuff you don’t understand, Granger. That’s bullshit!” He counters. I clench my teeth harder again.

“What about everything you told? Everything you saw in my-_our_ future,” I say trying to manipulate him.

“The future can always change,” he says solemnly.

“The future is what we make it. Based on the choices we make, Malfoy. I agree it can always change. I think that’s a good thing,” I add. He grabs my shoulders tightly in his arms.

“Your opinion of me-_of this_,” he indicates between us with his hand. “it’s going to change, Granger. I just don’t want to have to see it first hand,” he admits. It’s the first honest thing he’s said.

I look at his face and again I am reminded of the observation Harry made on the train to Hogwarts earlier this year. On how much Draco Malfoy has changed and again I can see it so clearly. He has changed, both in appearance and attitude. He is a lot slimmer than he was before and it’s technically a bad thing. He looks much sicker. A man with the weigh of the world on his shoulders. He looks like Harry looks sometimes and I think just a for a moment that if they were on the same side maybe things would be a lot different.

“I know who you are, Malfoy. You’ve proved that to me. You can say and do whatever you want and maybe my opinion will change but if it does. I will try to remember the person you are now. The person I know you truly are and the person I know you want to be,” I say.

“You can do the most horrible things in the world but I will always know who you are really. The same goes for me. I’m sure we will both do things we are not proud of in life. But we are the people we are right now, Malfoy. Right here, standing on this bridge. I will remember that in dark times.”

He sighs loudly and steps away from me.

“I don’t want to fight about it Granger,” he says in a defeated voice.

“So that’s what you want?” I ask. He nods slowly. I nod my head in answer several times.

“Okay,” I say.

“Okay?” He asks unsure.

“Yeah, that’s what you want. This is what I want,” I say and close the gap between us. I lean up and pull his head down towards mine. He catches my hand and pulls it away from his head.

“Granger, stop,” he warns quietly. I rest my left hand on his cheek and push up on the tips of my toes. I stop myself just before our lips touch and I wait for a moment. I brush my lips against his and his grip on my other hand loosens. I capture his mouth with mine lightly as if the wind was kissing him. I kiss him slowly and lightly. I hold the kiss deeply for a few seconds before I pull away. He keeps his eyes closed for a moment before staring down at his shoes.

“I am here, Draco. I’m going to be here for when you change your mind. So, whatever you have to do, really think about whether or not it’s worth it.”

“Granger you don’t understand I have too,” he complains. “You won’t feel like this when it’s done,” he adds.

“What? Can you predict the future now or something?” I ask smugly. He stares at me in disbelief. I lean up and kiss him lightly once more.

“I’m here, okay?” I say, pushing his hand into my chest, right over my heart.

“Remember that. You’re not alone,” I say as I drop his hand and pick up my bookbag. I walk over to the other side of the bridge, wiping away a silent tear I managed to keep at bay the entire conversation. He doesn’t know how strong I can be. He will soon see.


	11. The Waiting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!  
Sorry for the long delay.  
Also, apologises if this chapter is terribly sad I literally just came back from seeing The rise of Skywalker and I mean if you've seen it you can guess why I am sad haha!  
Anyways enjoy this chapter and let me know what you think. I really enjoyed writing it.  
Much Love <3

**Draco’s Point of View**

There is a sweet _almost_ sick serenity I find in watching her. I like to watch the way she interacts with her friends. How she moves about and carries herself when no one is watching. It’s become a fascination of mine as of late. I can’t say it’s the healthiest but it’s there nonetheless. It is almost like watching a life you wish you could have. I watch her in class when she’s not looking but my favourite place to watch her is in the Great Hall during meal times. Lately, she had taken to sitting with her back towards the Slytherin table and I don’t blame her. But it makes it easier for me to watch her this way, free from the fear that she might turn her head and catch my eye at any moment.

It is in these small moments that I get such an insight into her life and the easiness with which she carries herself around her friends. There is a force between them so palpable that even I can feel from almost four rows away. It mostly keeps my thoughts at bay to watch her but the odd time I am filled with uncountable jealousy. Immeasurable and it is in those small moments that I find myself scared of my own rage and what it could do if I were to ever lose it, _really_ lose it. I have not properly lost it in a long time. It mostly happened when I was younger and riddled with uncertainty. Now I manage to keep it quelled better. Besides, it’s hard not to want that life for her. The way in which she jokes with Potter and the weasels. The way they touch and hold each other like it is the most natural reaction in the world.

I turn my attention to the long rows of Slytherin students around me and note the differences in the way we carry ourselves. Nobody is touching, nobody is holding their stomach from the pain of laughter. We speak and move differently. Everything is measured and noticed and calculated. It is like we all lack free will as if we were machines rather than actual people. But the first years seem more like humans and I guess it is nurture rather than nature. Over time the easiness in which we were born with is just beaten out of us rigorously. We are shaped and moulded without really knowing it. I guess its easier to do when we’re younger and want to be like our peers.

For Granger’s world, it is the opposite. Comradery and friendship seem to reign above everything else. Your life is worth the same as the person sitting beside you whoever they may be. We are polar opposites in that sense. But I guess I wasn’t ever like that to begin with. Before I came here, I was the same as I am now. I guess it was easier then I didn’t have to live up to the Malfoy’s name as much because my father hadn’t failed as much as he has now.

It’s easy to sit here and think if I could go back to that day at the sorting hat, I would have asked to be put in any other house than Slytherin but that wasn’t who I was back then. I didn’t know what I know now. I think I was colder then than I am now. Everything was black and white back then but now there are so many different colours and hues. Every day I seem to see a new one and it can be quite blinding. So, I tend to keep my eyes low. Unless it comes to her.

There is a different type of commotion at the table today. The attention seems to be focused more on the weasel girl. Perhaps it is her birthday or something. As if confirming that thought they all suddenly raise their glasses and clink them together as the weasel girl goes bright red, more than usual. It must be her birthday so. Granger hugs her tightly as Potter and Weasel pat her warmly on the back. The other Gryffindor’s cheer also and raise their glasses in support.

Blaise slips in beside me and starts to stuff his face copiously. When he doesn’t start hounding me about anything I’m glad. I turn my attention back to Granger and the mass of people surrounding her group at the Gryffindor table. I watch as she flips her hair over her shoulder and the Weasel girl throws her arm around her and the table starts to sing Happy Birthday very loudly and out of tune.

When the noise drops to a dull roar a couple of the students from the table get up and start to leave. Each group congregating at the entrance before heading their separate ways. Granger stands and Potter and the Weasel join her. I watch as they leave the great hall and in typical fashion that is characteristic of her by now. She stops and turns back towards me. I drop my head before her eyes can find mine and I make sure to keep my head down for the next five consecutive minutes just to be sure. When I’m sure she’s gone I turn longingly towards the entrance to the Great Hall. To my disbelief, she’s still standing there as if she had been waiting for me to turn back around this entire time. I jump back a little in the chair from the fright of seeing her. She smirks at me and leaves a group she had been standing talking with. I watch as she rounds the corner and disappears from my sightline.

I wipe the sweat from my forehead and lean my head against my hands on the table, exhaling loudly into the space between my knees. My knuckles feel cool against my scorching hot forehead. Blaise elbows me in the ribs.

“Sit up,” he says harshly. I sit upright and look around at some of the questioning eyes watching me. I eye Blaise who’s watching me with a wary expression. I reconstruct my facial expression and sit for the next 20 minutes wearing the expression of quiet optimism which is expected of me.

When most of the Great Hall is empty Blaise stands and motions for me to follow. I hadn’t realised it had become so empty until I noticed the time. A quiet noise comes swopping from overhead as my owl glides over the Slytherin table, dropping an envelope in front of me. It lands between two apples, sitting upright facing towards me. In clear print, I notice my father’s handwriting. I gulp, taking the envelope. Blaise watches me nervously, sitting down again on the bench.

With the sharp side of the knife, I scoop under the envelope and rip the top off. At first, I think it might be empty but in the bottom right-hand corner I find a tiny piece of parchment. When I pull it out I can feel the panic in Blaise. A tiny piece of parchment is not a good sign. Even he knows that. When I open it the words ‘Tomorrow night’ sit neatly in the centre. There is nothing else written except for those two words. I fold the piece of parchment and click my fingers muttering the word incendio. I hold on to it for too long and the fire that engulfs the tiny piece of parchment burns the tip of my thumb and forefinger but I barely feel it. In fact, it feels good to feel the pain.

Blaise stands back up and rests his hand on my shoulder giving it a hard squeeze. The pain feels good also.

“I’m sorry man,” he mutters before turning and taking his leave. Blaise is good like that in a sense. He knows when to walk away. He knows when shit is serious. But for a second I almost ask him to stay but that wouldn’t be very Slytherin of me. I know that this path I am on I must walk alone. When the fire is extinguished and the ash is all that remains of the piece of parchment I turn my attention to the teacher's table and I notice Snape’s watching me curiously. A look of brief sadness crosses his eyes but he stands taking his leave before I can shoot him any kind of questioning look.

Dumbledore catches my eye as he sits in the centre, leaning towards Professor McGonagall, listening to her. But his attention seems to be on me. I turn away, too ashamed to look him in the eye. When I leave the Great hall I feel his eyes on me the entire way out.

* * *

When I’ve checked both the bridge and McGonagall’s classroom for the third time for Granger I sit on one of the windowsills behind a large pillar outside the Gryffindor common room. In my present position, I am concealed enough that anyone entering or leaving won’t notice me. It is an unwise move I know that especially considering what’s going to happen tomorrow. But it is precisely for that reason that I find myself on this windowsill.

I can not guarantee what will happen tomorrow. I can not guarantee that I will even be able to succeed and if not surely that will mean my own death. Even if I do succeed time will move quickly. Everything will move quickly and perhaps the cold war will be over and the real war shall begin. There is no room for _us_ in a war. There is only now. Right this second. This moment here where I am still me and not a pawn. I understand that I am a pawn but a pawn still has to do its job to protect those it cares about. Even if it means death.

I don’t want to be a pawn but I guess I am lucky because most pawns don’t even realise they are pawns in the first place. I know my position, my place in all of this. I am the Kickstarter and they aren’t often remembered. Perhaps when it is all over I will be at peace. If I die. Let it be peaceful. If I die. I hope she is far away from it all.

A noise catches my attention and I peak out from the windowsill, between the aperture of the wall and the pillar. A mop of ginger hair catches my attention as the girl Weasel leaves the common room. My patience and time are running thin. The words are out before I catch myself.

“Hey!” I exclaim, stepping up from the windowsill. The Weasel turns around with a jump and eyes me with a confused expression.

“Malfoy?” she asks, unsure. She eyes my expression and obvious dishevelled appearance. I run a hand through my hair as if that might make up for anything. I try to think of a logical explanation but my mind can’t. There is nothing that I can say that won’t come off wrong and I don’t have the time or the energy to be as careful as I usually think I’m being.

“Get Granger,” I say when nothing else comes to mind. She looks at me with such a pitiful expression I want to smack her but I hold back my rage.

“Why?” she asks, dragging out the word. Her eyes take on a knowing expression.

“I need to talk to her, Okay? Now are you going to go and get her for me or what?” I ask harsher this time. The Weasel just smirks at me, rolling her eyes as she turns around and heads back into the common room. I run my hands nervously through my hair again as I sit back down on the windowsill.

When almost fifteen full minutes pass the painting swings open and Granger steps out. At first, she looks confused as she looks up and down the hallway. She eventually spots me behind the pillar and walks towards me. I wipe the palms of my hands off against my trousers.

“Malfoy? What are you doing here?” she asks, leaning into the space between the pillar and the wall, making the windowsill feel like a place where only we exist.

“Someone could have seen you,” she warns. I roll my eyes at her. There isn’t any time left for that. I know I should worry about being so reckless and careless right now but there is such little time left. It’s already 10 pm.

“I’m not worried,” I say. She searches my eyes with an unsure expression.

“Malfoy, what’s going on?” she asks.

“Do you want to go for a walk?” I ask, suddenly feeling claustrophobic in the small space. It comes in waves now. The panic and fear. It hits me like a single punch to the chest and it’s gone again but I don’t know when the punch is coming so I’m almost constantly tense since I read the words on that piece of parchment.

“Walk? I’m not on rounds tonight Malfoy. If the other prefect catches us out walking there’ll be trouble. Besides we can’t just go for a walk together, remember?”

“Then let’s not walk around the castle. Let’s go down to the lake?” I suggest.

“Come on,” I say, pulling her arm before she can come up with another excuse.

We walk quietly beside one another not speaking. Mostly so we can be sure to hear anyone coming but I also feel Granger bubbling with questions as we move. I feel lighter walking beside her despite it all. The way you used to feel when you were younger and you hurt yourself and your mother comforted you. Being around her feels like that sometimes for me. I sometimes don’t realise or can’t put a name on an emotion until Granger is around me because she has a way of alleviating that feeling and making it better. She doesn’t always have to speak sometimes it is just her presence alone does that job just the same. Perhaps that is the reason I sought her out tonight. But I know that is not the only reason.

If I should die tomorrow I guess I want to die knowing that I could have had a life. I want to die knowing that regardless of everything I have done in the past that there was hope for me. That there was someone who saw something in me worthwhile. _Worth_ the effort. Is that not the main goal in life? To find someone who sees something in you that you didn’t believe to be in you. Someone who sees the real you. Someone who sees the soul you thought was not possible for you to possess.

When we reach the bridge I step to the other side of her to block some of the wind. She seems grateful but still pulls her light robe around her more tightly. Perhaps I shouldn’t have suggested we go to the lake on such a cold night. I’ll have to cast a charm when we’re there to keep her from dying of frostbite.

As the hill descends I take long strides down it, breaking into a run until I reach the edge of the lake. The wind whistles loudly across the far edges as the lake water laps quietly at my feet. Granger stumbles a little before finally making her way to the edge of the water. Here our breath is transformed into thick clouds that carry a little out towards the water before disappearing into nothing.

“It’s beautiful,” she comments. I turn and look down at her rosy red cheeks.

“It is,” I agree. I take off my outer robe and lay it on the ground and take a seat, casting a warming charm when Granger joins me.

“I wish I had come here more. I don’t know why I didn’t,” I say.

“It’s just far outside the castle is all,” she says.

“Yeah but I still should have made the effort. It’s different here.”

“Different how?” she inquires.

“It’s peaceful,” I clarify. “It can be so loud up there sometimes,” I say pointing towards the castle away in the distance. Granger turns and I watch her take in the view of the castle from here.

“It can be suffocating,” she adds.

“Exactly.”

“But down here it’s like none of it even matters. It’s like it’s not real. It’s just one giant postcard or something,” I say to which Granger lets out a little snort.

“Very big postcard,” she adds. I smirk.

“Malfoy?”

“Hmm,” I say, skipping a stone out over the lake. The noise echoes through the forbidden forest on the other side.

“Did something happen?” She asks, placing her hand on my forearm, right over the hidden mark. Her fingers feel cold even through the fabric of my jumper. I move my hand up and catch hers in mine and rub my fingers against hers in an attempt to warm them up. Her hand freezes a little at this gesture and I don’t blame her. I have not often done gestures like this. But tonight is a night where nothing and everything is wrong. A night where nothing matters and everything does so it’s hard to know what to do and what not to do. So, I chose not to think too much about anything. Except what feels natural at the moment.

“Is everything okay? I mean something must be wrong if you approached Ginny?” she asks again, more forward this time, squeezing my hand to emphasis certain words. I look up at the stars, twinkling so brightly overhead. I think of war.

“What do you think men whisper to one another in the trenches of war?” I ask, still watching the stars. I lean back against the grass and fold my other hand behind my head.

“Malfoy you’re worrying me,” she says, pulling on my hand.

“When I was younger my father had a book about war. It was a muggle book so I thought it was super strange that he would have it. He always kept it hidden in the bottom right-hand shelf of his work table and I often took it out just to read when he was away,” I explain.

“When I was younger I thought war was constant battles and fights and blood and death,” I say narratively.

“But war is not like that at all. War can be so _quiet_, almost peaceful at times. Quiet as a mouse even. It’s not all of those things. I mean it is but only sometimes. There are very few actual fights in war. Most of it is just waiting. That’s all it really is. War is waiting. Waiting and waiting until one day you’re time is up.”

“I think those men in the trenches waiting for war actually wish for something to happen because they are so sick of waiting that when it actually does happen they would give anything to just be waiting again,” I say.

Granger lays down beside me and turns her attention towards the stars. We both sit silently for a minute listening to the lake water lapping, nipping at the edges of our shoes.

“What are you trying to say, Malfoy?” she eventually asks her quiet angelic voice fitting perfectly with the sounds of the water lapping.

“I guess you don’t know how easy you have it until your time is up,” I say, pulling up some grass from the dirt. I throw it away and wrap my hand through another clump.

“Is your time up?” she questions. I can hear how hard she is trying to keep her voice even and it makes me smirk. I like how much she tries sometimes to play along with me. It is easy to talk to her. I will miss that. I chose not to answer her seriously.

“Eventually all of our time will be up. We just don’t know it until it’s too late,” I comment. Granger pushes up onto her elbow and stares down at me. Her hair falls from behind her back and brushes against the corner on my jaw. Today it smells like citrus.

“Is your time up?” she asks again, her eyes concentrated. I tuck the hair behind her right ear but it falls back down again in front of my face, flooding me with its scent.

“How sweet you smell,” I smile pushing her hair back again. Her facial expression doesn’t change. She leans down and presses her forehead against mine. She throws her right arm over me and cups the right side of my face in her hand and just holds me, ever so still. We stay like that for a while, her forehead pressed against mine and I close my eyes because it doesn’t matter if I can’t see the stars anymore.

“I am scared,” she whispers so low I wonder if I just imagined it. But I feel the small shakes she’s trying to hide as the pressure goes to her face. I feel a small wet drop hit my cheek but she doesn’t move or even acknowledge that she’s crying so neither do I.

“Do not be scared, Granger. There are so many people there for you,” I assure her.

“I am here for you,” she says in a rushed voice.

“I know.”

“Are you scared?” she asks, exhaling and sniffling as she wipes away a few fallen tears.

“Not right now,” I say honestly. I am not scared just this second which is a relief. Granger lets her head fall onto my right shoulder so her chest is sprawl across mine. I take my arms and wrap them around her tightly as I pull her close, almost cradling her. She squeezes.

“Are you going to go away?” she asks. A lump starts to form in the back of my throat at her question.

“Granger,” I start not wanting this conversation to continue.

“I don’t want you to go anywhere,” she confesses, wiping her wet face against my shoulder. I pull her body on top of mine and she shifts to get comfortable, eventually resting her head on my chest. She wipes at her face again and I try greatly to swallow the lump that won’t let me speak.

“How long will you be gone for?” she inquires then. I brush my hands through her hair as I try to flatten it down.

“I don’t know,” I croak, my voice feeling unfamiliar and heavy against my vocal cords.

“Will you come back?” she asks and I feel her lips tremble against my neck. I clench my teeth so hard I’m momentarily afraid I might crack one of them.

“I don’t know, Granger,” I say with a shaky voice. The lump in my throat is so big now it hurts to breathe. She leans up and rests her head against mine again, pushing down with a little force.

“I’ll be here, Malfoy, okay? I’ll be right here,” she says matter of factly.

“I don’t want you to put your life on hold for me, Granger,” I caution her.

“That’s not your choice to make, Malfoy.”

“I know that it’s your choice, Granger. But you’re choosing wrong,” I explain, hoping she might reconsider.

“I don’t want you to be waiting in the trenches too,” I admit.

“Yeah but one day I won’t be waiting right?” she asks hopefully. I close my eyes.

“Think of the life you could have, Granger. Think of the wonderful things you could do and accomplish. I mean do you have any idea what I would give to have your life. To have choices,” I say.

“You have choices, Malfoy. There is always a choice. I mean, wasn’t I one of your choices?” she asks, pressing her lips close to mine so they're just barely touching. I smirk against her mouth.

“I don’t think you were a choice,” I say to which she frowns.

“I think you were more of a gift,” I add. “One I didn’t always want but was addressed to me nonetheless. One I didn’t want to open or taint or break. But still, one that was _for_ me. I’m not always good at receiving gifts,” I admit.

She presses her lips to mine in sort of a hurried, panicked kiss. I pull on her lips with mine fiercely and deeply until she eventually breaks the kiss and chooses to stare at me instead.

“What do you see when you look at me?” I ask, pushing away the hair from her face. She scrutinizes my face.

“It hurts to look at you sometimes,” she admits, wiping at her face. In this light, her cheeks are glistening with tears.

“Why?”

“Because I always feel like it will be the last time I look at you. You have this look sometimes like you might just disappear forever. So it hurts,” she confesses. “But I see you, Malfoy. The real you. I see it when I look into your eyes. I can see the person you are. You eyes are very telling. They don’t lie,” she adds. I smirk, wiping away a tear for her.

“What do you see when you look at me?” she asks, her cheeks getting a little redder from the question.

I weigh this up in my head for a moment as I watch her eyes waiting for me to respond.

“I see someone to be proud of. Someone that I wish I could be more like. Someone that I’ve always been jealous of because of how easy everything is for you,” I admit.

“Malfoy my life is far from easy,” Granger argues.

“I know that. But you handle things a lot better than I do and I don’t think you get enough credit for that. I think people think you’re weak. But they’re wrong. I think you’re strong, Granger. Stronger than me even. I know that your friends put a lot of weigh on your shoulders but you can always handle it. In a far better way than most people. I wish I could be more like you,” I admit.

Grangers mouth falls into a small O as she searches my face.

“When?” she asks bravely and I avert my eyes.

“When, Malfoy?” she asks again, fiercer this time. I turn back to her.

“Soon.”

“How soon?”

_“Soon_,” I say with more emphasis this time.

“Do we only have right now?” she asks and I avert my eyes again afraid that she might actually be capable of reading my mind through my eyes.

“We only ever have _just_ right now,” I say, averting. I feel her nod.

“Okay then,” she says at last, pressing her lips against mine in a slow, hypnotising kiss. When she breaks it she leans her head against my chest again and I feel her pulse start to quicken.

“Do you love me?” she asks and my own heart rate starts to sore. I was not expecting that.

“Granger-

“Do you?” she asks more serious this time. I search the stars for a plausible answer. It does not feel like the time to have this conversation right now. But right now, is all that we have. I know that. But still perhaps if I don’t admit it then she will be able to move on easier if I should die tomorrow.

“I already know,” she admits. “I’ll ask you when you come back, okay?”

“Granger I don’t want you to wait. I told you that,” I chastise her.

“Why would I settle for something else?” she asks surprised.

“Because you never know who you can love if you give it a shot?” I say, feeling sick to my stomach at the idea of Granger married off to some other man. Some slimy git who works at the ministry and thinks himself above her or her abilities. He could never really know her. He could never really see her the way I do.

“I know who I _love_,” she says suddenly almost cutting me off. I shut my mouth and stare up at the stars as the heat begins to rise to my neck and ears. I encircle my arms around her tighter and she shivers a little.

“Granger I want you to know that it’s okay,” I start.

“What?”

“If when all of this is finished with that you have a change of heart about me. I’ll understand. You won’t even have to explain I’ll just know by looking at you whether or not things have changed, Okay?”

“You don’t need to worry about that,” she informs me.

“I’m being serious, Granger.”

“So am I,” she argues.

“If it should happen. Don’t beat yourself up about it. I understand,” I explain. She huffs into my chest but doesn’t put up much of a fight.

“Come on, Granger. It’s getting late. We’re going to have to head back now,” I say, leaning up. She continues to lie against my chest so that when I sit upright I’m cradling her in my lap.

On the walk back to the castle we walk slowly as if savouring each step together. I think she knows what’s to come without me even having to say it. She understands that it’s bad even if she doesn’t want to admit and I think she is worried that her opinion of me will change. We move dreamily along the corridors because the entire night has felt like a dream. An entire night without a proper fight is progress for us. An entire night without my worries and insecurities overtaking my thoughts too much aswell.

When I reach the Gryffindor common room entrance it feels all too sudden and she wears a sulking expression when she turns around to face me. I walk over towards the windowsill area which is more hidden from view in case anyone decides to leave or enter the common room.

I capture her mouth in mine for what might possibly be the last time. I hold her so tightly flush against me as I move my mouth with hers in perfect sync. She tastes as sweet as she is and warm like a late summer evening. She tastes of home. Not the manor back in London but a home I never had but imagined as a child. A home where everyone was happy and content. A safe place to land.

I pull away, placing a small peck on her lips before she pulls back and smiles up at me.

“I’ll see you soon?” she asks.

“Granger,” I start.

“Just say you’ll see me soon, okay?” she asks, her tone desperate. I nod.

“I’ll see you soon,” I say, trying to be as convincing as I can be. She leans forward wrapping her arms around me and I hug her tightly for a moment. Her lips move to my ear.

“Do you love me?” she whispers. She pulls back quickly and places her hand over my mouth, stopping me from speaking and turns her attention to my eyes, searching there for the answer instead. I look deep into her chocolate brown eyes. She smiles.

“I just wanted to make sure,” she says.

“I’ll see you soon,” she says again as she turns.

“Oh and Malfoy?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m proud of you too,” she says with a smile as she disappears into the Gryffindor common room.

How can she look in me and see it all? What does she see? Why couldn’t I even see what she can see? She has this sort of unwavering conviction when it comes to me and for that I envy her. I’m not nearly half as sure of myself as she seems to be.

But as the painting closes and I’m left alone in the corridor way past midnight I feel it again. The silence of war is coming to an end and soon there will be nothing left but burning sound alight with fear.

My waiting is over.


	12. Follow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya, everyone!  
I hope you guys had a really wonderful Christmas! Sorry about taking so long to update I've just been super lazy!  
I hope this chapter makes up for it.  
Let me know what you think!  
Reviews always mean a lot to me to hear from you  
Much Love <3

**Hermione’s Point of View**

After three hours of hopeless sleep, dawn breaks over the eastern horizon illuminating the lake and forbidden forest first before cascading in my window and blinding me. I wipe the sleep from my eyes and throw my legs over the side of the bed, breaking there for a moment to will myself to get out of bed. My head feels heavier than usual and my arms light as feathers. The other girls in the dorm haven’t woken up yet and I’m glad for the stolen privacy which is very rare between these confines. I let a tear slip down my cheek before wiping it away and grabbing my uniform off the back of the chair.

I shower slowly in the Prefects bathroom hoping the water might breathe some new life into me but it just makes me feel even sleepier. Once I’m fully washed and dressed, I lose my train of thought and find myself staring absently at my reflection in the mirror. Trying to analyse it or something. I have a strong feeling that today will be the kind of day that ages me. The kind of day that if I were to look at my face again tonight in the mirror, I might think I look different. That thought worries me dreadfully.

I grab my book bag as softly as I can from beside my bed and shut the bedroom door soundlessly behind me. Luckily the other three girls don’t stir. The common room is empty when I get downstairs. The clock on the wall read 6:15 am. I sigh deeply as I make my way down to the Great Hall. I sit in the empty room and lean my head against the cool mahogany counters. Breakfast is not usually served till 7 am.

When the stillness starts to stir uncomfortable thoughts in my head, I take out my charms notebook and try to get some studying done. My hand seems to have other ideas. I look over the page and notice the muddled writing and use all my focus trying to steady my hand as I write. But it’s fruitless.

I look up at the sun rising in the sky and casting a long arm across the Great Hall and I wonder is today the day. He had said soon. But how _soon_ was _soon_? His behaviour and attitude last night had seemed to spur of the moment for him, far too careless. It seemed as if he knew his time was up and was acting accordingly. _Is it today_? Has something already happened while I was sleeping? If one could call that sleeping.

At 7 am I find myself still alone in the Great Hall as the long rows of tables fill with breakfast. My charms notebook vibrates on the table so I pull it down onto my lap as a plate appears in its place. I wait for a moment as the tea and coffee pots eventually appear. I grab the big pitcher of coffee and the biggest cup within reach and fill it up to the brim. I cast a mild cooling charm and gulp almost a third of the cup down. I take some of the wet coffee from the compartment in the pitcher, fleetingly looking around to make sure I’m alone and dot some of it under my eyes in hopes that it might combat some of the dark circles.

When the cup is empty I feel a little better but the caffeine seems to flare up my apprehension like it sometimes does. The relentless thoughts and worries flood into my mind and I pour myself another cup regardless. I try to calm myself, placing my nose at the edge of the cup and focusing solely on the smell of the coffee. I try to think back to the summers I would spend at home with my parents and Ms McGuire’s coffee shop on the corner of Winchester Street. For a minute I try to pretend for my own mental state that none of it is real. That the whole wizarding world isn’t real. I try to imagine that I am sitting there with an old novel and Crookshanks is on my laps while Ms McGuire chats absently behind the till to a customer. The atmosphere there had almost felt as much like home and my actual home did. I wish to be there now. It would be so much easier to pretend none of this was happening if I could just be there now.

In a small part of my mind a voice whispers ‘_You could be_’. I try to ignore it but it starts to speak louder. I am aware of my level of candour with the professors and how from years of it they wouldn’t ask too many questions if I suddenly asked to go home for a few days. But that isn’t feasible no matter how alluring the idea might seem. It would inevitably cause more problems than it would fix. I would have to explain to my parents why I was home in the middle of February and when I came back who knows what I would come back to? Who knows what might be left or who for that matter? Then I would have to explain to everyone why I left in the first place.

Avoidance - _as nice as it might sound _\- is not the answer I’m looking for. So, what is then? Approaching him is out of the question. He wouldn’t tell me anything anyway. His words from last night haunt me. He had lamented the idea that it was okay if my opinion of him was to change. That might be all well and good for him but I didn’t want that. I wouldn’t stand for that. But if I was to fight so hard against that outcome would it make it inevitable in the end?

I slam my hands against the table hitting against a fork sending it flying behind me, knocking over a cup on the Ravenclaw table. I sigh stepping up to fetch it when I notice the first lot of students making their way into the Great Hall. I sit back down speedily and take a napkin, wiping under my eyelids furiously trying to get all of the coffee off.

Twenty-five minutes before our first class Harry and Ron stumble into the Great Hall. As I watch them joke across the table with one another I think of speaking. I think of saying something to Harry about what Malfoy has said. But I can’t speak. Something terrible is coming I know it and by the way Harry is throwing me cautious eyes, I think he might feel it too. He has a way of knowing when something bad is going to happen. His glances towards me prove my suspicions that today must be the day.

I wish that I could have known sooner. I mean in a sense I did know something was coming and I should have prepared better. This was if anything else a premeditated event. But I chose to ignore it and now it’s too late. No amount of words or actions can stop what’s to come. I can feel the weight hanging over us all and it’s enormous.

When we leave the table, Harry throws an arm over my shoulder as we walk to our first class. I feel a tremendous amount of culpability burrow itself in the back of my throat as he smiles down at me sadly. When we get to the entrance of the Great Hall I look back over my shoulder. Before my eyes find his seat, I already know he’s not going to be there. Sometime tells me he won’t be in any classes today.

* * *

When classes are finally over my headache feels like it is stretching my skull. I almost consider going to Madame Pomfrey but our relationship is still a little sore since the last time I saw her. Ginny links her arm through mine when she catches me.

“Headache?” she asks when she notices my pained expression.

“Yup,” I sigh in response.

“Why don’t you go to Madame Pomfrey?”

“Don’t feel like seeing her,” I laugh off her suggestion. Ginny shrugs.

“So,” she starts.

“Ginny,” I warn her as I can feel a wave of questions coming off of her.

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” she defends.

“I can feel the questions brimming behind your tongue, Ginny,” I sigh.

“Well, you never told me why Malfoy was looking for you? _And_ you were gone so long I had to tell Harry and Ron that you had switched your Prefects duties with Dean Thomas,” Ginny explains.

“Thanks for that,” I say instead.

“You’re welcome. But you’ve got to tell me what he wanted,” she insists. I roll my eyes but the playful nature isn’t there. I can’t help the wave of panic and sorrow that washes over me at that moment.

“Hermione, what’s wrong?” Ginny questions, pulling me into one of the girl’s bathrooms. We push through the doors and Ginny checks the stalls before beckoning me to continue. I gather my breath.

“I don’t know,” I admit.

“What? Why do you look like you’re about to burst into tears?”

“I don’t know maybe because I might,” I warn her trying to slow my breathing.

“Did ye have a fight?” Ginny asks, eying me.

“No, it wasn’t anything like that,” I assure her.

“Well, what happened? Where did the two of you go? He didn’t do anything to hurt you, did he?” Ginny starts and I know if I don’t answer her now all the questions will come tumbling out of her.

“We went down to the lake,” I start. “But things felt really different.”

“Different _bad_ or?”

“I’m not sure they felt deeper if that makes sense. Like the words we were saying seemed to hold a lot more heaviness than usual,” I explain.

“I don’t fully understand,” Ginny says confused.

“I don’t either,” I disclose. “He can be so hard to read sometimes. I mean he tries to be because he knows I’m trying to read him so he averts his eyes and it’s hard to know then whether he’s being honest or lying through his teeth.”

“Does he lie a lot?”

“Yes and no,” I answer. “It’s not the lying you’re thinking of. I’m explaining this badly,” I admit, frustrated.

“It’s not exactly lying. He just evades my questions. He has a smart mouth so it comes easier to him,” I clarify.

“I see. So what was he trying to avoid saying last night?”

“Something is going to happen Ginny. He said that he’s been asked to do something and he won’t say what it is. Just that he has to and that it is bad,” I say another panic building in my chest.

“Like been asked because he’s a…” Ginny awkwardly averts her eyes to the floor. “_Death eater_?”

I nod slowly as Ginny takes it in.

“Hermione!” Ginny says her voice with heavy with a pleading tone.

“I’ve asked him not too and he said he doesn’t have a choice,” I explain. I grab Ginny arms. “I’m worried Ginny. I’m worried it’s today. That’s the impression I got last night. He kept saying it was soon but I don’t know how soon is soon?” I ramble on and Ginny pulls me into a tight hug as a tear escapes. I rest my head on her shoulder and exhale some of the pressure away.

“It’s okay Hermione. Take a deep breath, okay? Just breathe,” she says soothingly, rubbing circles into my back as I catch my breath.

“Something bad is coming. I can feel it and I think Harry can too,” I say into her shoulder.

“Where is he now?” Ginny asks.

“I don’t know he hasn’t been in any of his classes all day. I looked around for him but I haven’t seen him since last night,” I cry. Ginny rubs my back a little harder.

“Matter of fact I didn’t see him at all today either,” Ginny says curiously. “He’s got to be either in his dorm or in the Slytherin common room.”

“Well, it’s not exactly like I can go knock on the door and check?” I say pulling out of the hug and wiping away the tears stuck in my tear troughs.

“Why not? Didn’t he come looking for you last night here?” Ginny declares with a raised eyebrow

“Yeah, but he got lucky and found you. Knowing my luck, it’ll be Pansy Parkinson I’ll end up running into,” I sigh. “It’s not much use anyways Ginny he won’t tell me anything. Believe me.”

“Then what if you just wait outside the Slytherin common room. I mean he has to come out at some point. He must be in there because he definitely hasn’t been going to class,” Ginny reasons.

“And what do you suppose I do when he comes out or someone sees me?”

“You could follow him?” Ginny suggests.

“He’d spot me in a heartbeat Ginny,” I maintain. This all seems futile. I thought I had the situation in my grasp but it keeps slipping through and there’s nothing I can do. It’s like trying to catch smoke. It’s like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands. But maybe my grip on the situation has never been that tight to begin with. How could it be with someone like Draco Malfoy?

“What if he couldn’t see you?” Ginny says.

“What are you playing at?”

“We happen to have a friend that is in possession of an invisibility cloak, do we not?” Ginny says smugly with a gleeful smile.

“Ginny I can’t involve Harry in this. Then he’ll ask a million and one questions and I don’t know if I’m ready to have that conversation with him yet.”

“I understand. But what if you didn’t ask him?”

“You want me to steal his invisibility cloak? Yeah, that’s really going to help my credit when I have to tell him everything,” I say rolling my eyes.

“No! What if you just borrowed it without him knowing?” she suggests. I weigh this up for a moment. Listing the pros and cons in my head as Ginny watches me expectantly.

“I don’t know,” I say unsure.

“Don’t you want to know what he’s going to do? Or better yet don’t you want to know at least where he is? You can start there and see how you feel?”

“Ginny, I don’t know. I mean I can’t just take his invisibility cloak! And then what? I just put it on and walk into the Slytherin common room?” I can feel my heart rate start at the idea of it all.

“Hermione, breathe!” Ginny says slowly, pointing a chastising finger at me. She has often berated me in the past for getting too worked up too quickly but I think it’s justifiable in this situation.

“You can do this!” Ginny plants both her arms down on my shoulders like a coach trying to get his team in the proper mindset for the upcoming game. I breathe deeply into the space between us and try and draw some strength from Ginny. She grabs my arm and starts dragging me out of the girl's bathroom.

“Where are we going?” I ask, unsure as we enter the mostly empty corridor.

“Back to the common room. I’m going to distract Harry and you’re going to go into his room and get that cloak!” Ginny’s voice holds so much conviction and surety I wish I could be as confident in the plan as her.

* * *

Back in the common room, Ginny gives me a subtle nod from the fireplace as she places her arm lightly on Harry's forearm, laughing loudly at whatever he just said. I roll my eyes and take a quick sweep of the room before I make my way up the stairs to the dormitory. Most of the students seem to be in the common room. Beside Dinner is in half an hour so most of them will likely move in that direction fairly soon.

I take a left at the Avanni painting. Left for boys, right for girls. Surely if I run into anyone they won’t think it’s too crazy that I would be in Harry’s room. No one really ever suspects me of anything that would stray away from the perfect Prefect and at this moment I’m thankful for that reputation.

When I get into the dormitory I move quickly, pulling the trunk out from Harry’s bed, ignoring the state of the room and my sudden urge to clean away the anxiety. Ginny had said check the trunk first as it seemed the most likely place it would be. I flick open the two latches and push it open. I shove through most of the junk until I feel the familiar material.

“Did you finish that assignment for Snape yet?” A voice sounds coming up the stairwell. I grab the cloak pulling it out of the trunk and wrapping it around me. As quietly as I can possibly manage I close the trunk choosing to leave the latches open as I push it under the bed. Closing the latches would have made far too loud a noise. I stand beside Harry’s bedside table as Seamus and Ron walk into the room.

“No haven’t even started it yet. When is it due?” Ron asks as they make their way over to one of the other beds. I use this opportunity to slip out and move as swiftly as I can down the stairs. If I meet someone now, they’ll definitely bump into me in the narrow stairwell and there’ll be no explaining that away.

I sigh a deep breath of relief as I enter the common room to find it mostly empty. They must have gone down to dinner. I spot Ginny on the couch with Harry and Padma, talking lightly. On my way past, I pinch Ginny’s earlobe to let her know the plan worked. Not thinking too much about my actions Ginny lets out a loud whelp, probably from the shock. I cover my mouth and try not to laugh as she realises what it was and tries to explain it away to Harry and Padma.

Ginny eyes the direction of the door over Harry’s shoulder and I open it slightly to let her know I’m standing there. She smiles supportively at me and at that moment, I realise how lucky I truly am to have a friend like her. Even if she does talk me into some sticky situations. Because I know she just pushes to help me push past my own worries.

In the cold corridors, I try to remember her supportive expression but it seems to fade and replaces with worry the closer I get to the dungeons. I shuffle along almost lost, pulling the cloak as tightly around me as possible. Every few steps I stop to make sure my feet aren’t showing but the cloak is practically dragging along the ground. If I’m not careful someone could trip over it and I’ll have to take off running.

When I finally reach the general area I think the Slytherin common room is in I feel the air turn theatrically colder. I should have asked Ginny where it was to make sure. It’s not like I’ve ever had any reason to seek it out before. I hear the sound of voices in the distance and take off in that direction. I come up behind a group of first-year Slytherins and decide to follow them.

At the end of the corridor, they stop in front of a large statue. Over their chatter, I don’t hear the password and instead, I slip in close behind them, sweat gathering on my back the entire time. Once inside I stop, afraid to move anymore. It’s not the best place to stop as the doorway in is rather narrow. If someone decides to come in behind me they’ll definitely hit me. God, why does this have to be so difficult? I should just turn back now before I get caught and embarrass myself even worse.

A voice carries out over the chatter of the first year. A voice I recognise. A voice I would know out of possibly millions. It’s _his voice_. I follow the sound of it out of the darkness of the doorway until serval candles floating near the room illuminates the Slytherin common room. It’s probably the first and last time I’m ever going to see it. It’s much bigger and nicer than the Gryffindor common room. Surely that has something to do with the fact that many of the older students in Slytherin come from extremely well off families who can afford to furnish the place at a different standard then the school can afford.

In the corner under a large pillar hidden away from the light of the candles, I find him. Blaise Zabini sits beside him in a corner sofa that extends out with extra legroom. Blaise sits nonchalantly, one leg hanging lazily ahead of him. Malfoy, on the other hand, sits forward with his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped together in from of him. He wears a deep pensive expression as he stares into the middle distance in front of him. I take in the room slowly as I make my way over to a less populated area. Thank god it happens to be dinner time and most of the students aren’t here. I can’t imagine how my anxiety would have held up if the place happened to be packed with students.

Malfoy stares at the clock every few seconds as if he’s not sure the time is moving or staying completely still. I notice Blaise watching him out of the corner of his eye.

“Malfoy you’re making me anxious,” Blaise laughs but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He knows something is wrong too I can see it on his face.

“Shut up,” he responds sharply and it reminds me of the tone he used to use with me at the start. The tone he still sometimes uses if we get practically heated in an argument. But he never uses that much venom with me. To know he was going easy on me at the start even stirs a new kind of emotion in my chest.

“When are you suppose to be there?” Blaise asks.

“Seven,” Malfoy states staring up at the clock. I turn my attention to the clock hanging over the hearth. It’s ten minutes to seven.

“Shouldn’t you go now?” Blaise suggests. I watch Malfoy crease his eyebrows together and he squeezes his hands into fists. He stands and Blaise watches him. Malfoy picks up his wand from the chair and slips into his robe, leaving the wand in the front pocket.

“You know what to do?” Malfoy asks. Blaise nods in response.

“Okay,” Malfoy says stepping away from the couch.

“Malfoy,” Blaise calls. Malfoy stops and turns slightly on his heels.

“I don’t envy you, man,” Blaise whispers. I think it’s the softest I’ve ever heard him speak to someone else. Malfoy regards him for a moment before giving him a final nod. He walks towards the entrance and I stare at Blaise longingly, willing him to say something. Plea with him to stop and stay but perhaps whatever Malfoy has to do is something he wants to be done. Something maybe they all want to be done.

I shake the thoughts out of my head as I hurry on my heels after him, pulling the cloak up so I can move quicker. I try to move as soundlessly as I can but it's not my feet that’s making the most noise. It’s my panicked breathing that’s going to get me caught. I stop suddenly on my tippy toes in the dark of the doorway inches away from pressing against Malfoy’s back.

Out of view of the rest of the common room, Malfoy has come to a complete standstill in the darkness. I take a soundless step back so he if he decides to suddenly swing his arms backwards, he won’t hit me. In the quiet of the dark, I can make out his jagged breathing. He outstretches his arms out in front of him leaning against the entrance door. His breathing comes hard and fast and he bows his head into his chest.

“_Fuck_,” he sighs, his voice low and croaky. I can almost feel his pain and I desperately want to reach out and comfort him. I want to comfort the boy that no one expects to need it when he is the one who has always needed it to most. Maybe years ago if only someone had seen that things could be different now. He wouldn’t be standing here with the weight of another man's mistakes on his shoulders. I know why he has to do whatever he has to do. His father’s mistakes have featured quite largely in the papers over the past year. The court cases and pictures often being considered front-page news. This alone is enough to break a man let alone a child.

In this dark hallway filled with the sound of his scared uneven breathing, I am reminded once again of the fact that he is just a minor, a child. A mere boy of seventeen expected to hold the weight of a man twice his age. If he had let me, I would have been willing to help him lift the weight but he has always been too proud to acknowledge the fact that he was losing his footing. Where is the pride in this dark doorway, huh?

The light blinds me slightly as he opens the door. I slip out as rapidly as I can behind him. He takes off down a dim corridor in a direction I’m not sure. Any of the main areas you have to go upstairs for but he’s gone the opposite direction, I think. I hear Ginny’s words in my head, reminding me that I can just check and make sure where he is. I’ve done that now. Technically I can leave. I can head back to my own common room and put the cloak back where it belongs.

As I turn my feet, I argue with myself. I don’t have to go. I really don’t. I can go back and pretend if I want to that he stayed there with Blaise and talked usually guy shit all night. I can just pretend. My thoughts start to unravel as dread takes over. How can I stand here and watch him walk away? Walk away to who knows what? Or where?

I turn and follow him. I follow him regardless of the panic and anxiety and fear crumbling in my chest. I follow him because the further he walks away the worse it seems to get. I follow even though I know we are walking into near death.

I follow because I think if the situations were reversed, he would follow me.


	13. Stranger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya, everyone!  
I'm sorry this update took so long. I think it's been something like twenty days since I last posted. I have been very busy and this chapter was extremely hard for me to write. But I knew I couldn't put it off any longer. I'm not 100% happy with how it turned out honestly but I knew I had to post another chapter soon because it had been too long since my last update.  
So I hope you don't hate this chapter too much it honestly isn't my best work.  
Anyways review and let me know what you think.  
Thanks so much for the continuing support.  
Much Love <3

**Hermione’s Point of View**

_I follow. _

I follow a lost boy because he is lost even though his feet seem to move in a certain direction. It is in his mannerisms and the nervous looks over his shoulders that informs me how misled he truly is. He continues to walk towards something but at the same time, he is walking away from something. Whether that something is me or the life that he has for himself here I guess I can’t say right at this second. I just know that the boy is lost and as much as I want to reach out and grab him and shake some sense into him I follow behind him quite lost myself.

I move as soundlessly as I can and it’s in certain moments when my shoes squeak that I wish I had taken them off instead and opted to walk barefooted. On the other hand, I think if I fell and caused a huge commotion Draco Malfoy might not even notice. He seems miles away in his head. His body is there walking to whatever destination he has entered. Autonomous. But his thoughts are far away.

When we come to a crossroads he turns left and I follow swiftly on his heel. Holding the robe up to stop it gathering so much in front of me as I shuffle along. Suddenly Malfoy stops in front of a wall. He looks around and for a second his eyes catch the area I’m standing in and I think that I’m caught but he quickly looks away and turns his attention back to the wall. I walk over to it - a little away from him - and try and get a good look at his face. He bows his head and rests it against the wall allowing his eyes to fall shut briefly. He mumbles something silently and his hands move back against the wall as if it’s pushing out against him.

A large old-fashioned door materialises out of the wall and grows up from the floor to the very tip of the ceiling. When it’s fully erect Malfoy takes one last look over his shoulder warily as he enters the room. When the door shuts behind him I’m unsure what to do. Surely if I open the door now and try and follow him he will notice me immediately. As if the door heard my predicament it suddenly vanishes as if it was never there.

I move closer to the spot where the door was visible and rub at the wall to make sure my mind hasn’t finally snapped or something. But the wall is smooth. No evidence that a large door was ever there. I place my ear close to the wall but of course, I can’t hear anything through the thick stone walls. I pull the robe up and slide down the wall, pooling it in my lap for warmth. The breeze coming around in from the courtyard causes me to pull the robe tight around me, tucking it into all of my creases.

I stare out at the darkening sky and it fills me with dread. What could he possibly be doing in that room? What could he have conjured the room of requirement for? When will he come out? The questions come shooting to the forefront of my mind and I pull my knees tight to my chest in an attempt to hold myself together. It futile.

It seems like a very long time before the wall shifts against my back and the door starts to form again slowly from the bottom to the top with a small rumble. I stand up in a hurry and shamble away from the door as I wait for him. When he finally exits the room I try to peak in behind him to see what he could have possibly conjured but his facial expression causes a quick gasp to escape. Luckily he doesn’t notice the noise. I didn’t think he could look worse or more lost in himself but he does. Whatever happened in that room I’m not sure if I truly want to know.

Malfoy looks over his shoulder at the door and leaves it slightly ajar before hurrying ahead. The action causes my stomach to churn and I move as hurriedly as I can behind him petrified with the notion that he might not be the only person to come out of the door. When we’re about to round a corner I look over my shoulder and gulp. The door hasn’t disappeared yet and the sound of a small women's voice filters out from the room. I turn the corner pulling the robe firmly around me as I follow Draco Malfoy absently.

Malfoy moves so fast through the labyrinthian maze that is Hogwarts that I chose to lift the robe above my shoes to give myself a chance to keep pace with him. There is no one around to notice two feet roaming around without a body. I think if I was to take the entire robe off and follow Malfoy as normal he might not even notice it.

Malfoy stops outside the entrance to the astronomy tower and looks behind him in an apprehensive panic. I think of taking the robe off and placing a reassuring hand on his. I want to reach out and tell him that whatever happened in that room it’s okay to stop now if he wishes. Because I have a feeling that it’s not over. Whatever he did in that room feels like the start of something and not the end.

I want to scream at him but this robe feels suddenly 10 inches thick. It feels as if I were to scream he wouldn’t even hear me. I want to tell him it’s okay to just walk away if he wishes. That we could go down to the lake for the rest of the night and sit close to the edge and listen to the soft lapping of the lake water and talk about nothing and everything. I want to tell him that it’s okay to want that. There is nothing wrong with wanting something for yourself. Screw being selfish.

He turns quickly and takes the steps painfully slow. The narrow stairwell echos the frequent clap of his shoes off each step. I wait till he’s halfway up and take my shoes off, following behind him as quietly as possible. When I get to the first landing of the astronomy tower I hear the sound of owls perched on the rim of the opening. I look up through the gap in the landing to the top story and I see Malfoy walk into the opening and take out his wand.

I look to the other side of the landing but I don’t see anyone. I scan around the room but in my present position, most of the top story is hidden behind a large astronomy structure that twists and turns in the breeze. I move around as much as I can to get a better view of Malfoy. It would be too risky to walk up the last flight of stairs as the top story is fair too narrow and the chances of bumping into Malfoy are far too great.

“Good evening, Draco,” a familiar voice sounds through the astronomy tower. I bump into a large wooden crate and rub furiously to stop the stabbing pain in my hip trying all the while to see who else is up there. Out of the corner of the room, Dumbledore walks into the frame, the darkening sky seeming to illuminate his face. He looks much worse than he did this morning, weaker and more like the age he tries to hide.

“Who else is here? I heard you talking?” Malfoy asks, raising his wand towards Dumbledore. What is he doing? Dumbledore disregards his question as Malfoy raises his wand higher pointing it directly at him.

They both seem to sidestep around the astronomy structure in the centre of the room, never breaking eye contact. Dumbledore mumbles a few questions to which Malfoy ignores before a weighted silence fills the air.

“I guess you didn’t take my advice at the start of the year, Mr Malfoy? Otherwise, I wouldn’t be currently in the pleasure of your company,” Dumbledore says airly. His words seem to suck up the oxygen in the room and I match Malfoys bated-breathing. What does Dumbledore mean? Did he know something like this was going to happen? Malfoy shakes his head, ignoring the question.

“I thought maybe given the choice you would have chosen the latter,” Dumbledore muses. Malfoy raises his eyebrows.

“What you think I wasn’t aware of the circumstances? That you had been asked by the Dark Lord himself to take up this task? I mean with all the failed attempts it would have been easy to put it together regardless,” Dumbledore smirks. His face turns serious then.

“I gave you a choice, Mr Malfoy. Why didn’t you take it?”

“There was never a choice. Not _really_. We were always going to get to this point,” Malfoy explains, shuffling nervously. He holds his voice though. If he is fearful it is not shown in his voice, but rather in his face. Dumbledore weights up his words before smirking. He leans back against a collum, resting his weight.

“Why are you smirking?” Malfoy snaps. Dumbledore lets out a smug little laugh.

“What was wrong with the choice? You didn’t like the girl I picked?” Dumbledore questions. I step back bumping into the wall. I turn my head to stare at Malfoys expression. It drops. Mine follows.

“What do you mean the girl you _picked_?” Malfoy says, speechless. He outstretched arm shakes.

“I mean picking Miss Granger to play that role was a bit daring but I believed she could do it. I mean she always had a somewhat _fascination_ with you. You know what they say about the _fine line_ between love and hate. Perhaps I saw myself as too much of a matchmaker back then. But I thought who better to change your mind then the girl you claimed to hate the most? Would you have preferred someone else? But then again, I don’t think the practice would have had as big of an impact if it hadn’t been so hard in the first place? Didn’t you enjoy the challenge, Mr Malfoy?” Dumbledores rambles on.

I stare dumbfound up at Malfoy as his arm quivers and starts to lower. I can feel the darkness I have been dreading all day start to claw at my thoughts. The fear is about to be realised. Between a rock and a hard place, something has to eventually give.

“What are you trying to say, old man?” Malfoy shouts readjusting his arm back and pointing furiously with his wand.

“I thought I could crack you. I thought how hard can it be to change the mind of a teenager when they are known for changing their mind every day,” Dumbledore explains.

I slide my hand down the wall as my body starts to drift towards the floor. The weight of Dumbledores words continue to slowly process in the back of my head and I know the answer is there already but I am too terrified to say it out loud. I look at Malfoy’s face and it hasn’t clicked with him yet. My stomach churns suddenly as the heat starts out on my neck and back.

A squeak on the floorboards sounds, barely audible as I see Harry step into view from the shadows. I squeeze my hand over my mouth as the panic kicks into high gear. How much has he heard so far? I search his eyes as much as I can from my present position. They’re cold and empty. I think that he’s heard enough to know that I have lied about a lot more than he could have ever imagined. Perhaps it is over now. Finished with words spoken by another. Has my time in the golden trio come to an end because I had simply been curious. I guess curiosity really did kill the cat. I can’t think rational with the shock. I can’t feel the pain of knowing the more Harry listens _now_ the less he will listen to me _later_. It was not supposed to go down like this. He wasn’t supposed to find out this way.

“What do you mean?” Malfoy finally shouts stopping Dumbledores unintelligent rant.

“It was but a farce, Mr Malfoy,” he says finally but it doesn’t touch me. His words rush right over me like water. I am too numb to be touched by the impact of his words right now. I know exactly what he means but he may as well be speaking parseltongue. They don’t hurt now because they are meant to hurt later.

“What do-“

“Between you and Miss Granger. It was a lie. Everything you saw in that Pensieve was a lie. The whole award was just a fabrication of my doing,” Dumbledore explained. Malfoy drops his arm gradually and takes an unsteady step backwards, almost losing his footing.

“A lie?”

“Yes, I made up the entire thing in hopes that showing you an alternative outcome to your life might lead you away from this outcome,” he says sadly. Dumbledore pushes his glasses back up on his nose as he watches Malfoys expression warily.

“Maybe it was inevitable or perhaps the way I went about it can be misconstrued as malicious but my initial intention shall not be lost. Years ago, I knew a boy who made all the wrong choices because he was never shown otherwise. I tried to help you. Please understand that,” Dumbledore explains urgently.

“Why her? Why bring her into this?” Malfoy questions.

“She’s a smart girl. But that is not the only reason. She sees the good in everyone. I thought she could help you see the good in you. Especially when you can’t see it yourself,” Dumbledore clarifies.

A creaking noise fills the astronomy tower followed by the noise of movement in the stairwell. Someone is coming and by the sound of it, it’s more than one person.

“You’re not alone?” Dumbledore states. “How?”

The sound of footsteps on the stairs breathes a new sort of panic into Malfoy.

“Vanishing Cabinet in the room of requirement,” Malfoy explains quietly, listening out for the sound of the approaching footsteps.

“A sister?”

“In Borgin and Burkes. They form a passageway.”

“Ingenious,” Dumbledore revels.

I watch as several dark figures walk past the small opening into our landing as they make their way to the top floor. I spot Bellatrix amongst them. Harry steps back into the shadows until they’re gone. He takes out his wand and points it up at the newly arriving guests. I watch as Bellatrix makes her way over to Malfoy and praises him warmly. Malfoys extended arm sits even more rigidly straight the nearer Bellatrix gets. Harry walks around the small aperture we watch them through as he raises his wand trying to find a good position.

Another figure appears on our landing, emerging from the darkness of the stairwell. Snape appears and lets his wand follow Harry around the room. Harry all the while unaware of our new visitor, his eyes stay fixed firmly on Bellatrix Lestrange.

“Bellatrix I believe introductions are in order,” Dumbledores voice fills the silence.

“Would love to Albus, but I fear we’re running out of time,” she explains. She turns frantically towards Malfoy and beckons for him to do it. Malfoy steps forward pointing the wand at Dumbledore who only smiles sadly back at him.

Harry turns around and notices Snape standing by the doorway. Confusion crosses his face as he lets the wand fall down to his chest. Snape motions for Harry to keep quiet as he makes his way back to the stairwell. Harry stares dumbfounded after him as he disappears.

“Do it, Draco,” Bellatrix sings. Malfoys arm starts to shake and a bluish tint fills his cheekbones. Perhaps this was something I was never ever supposed to see. The side of himself that he had desperately tried to hide. Maybe I should have listened. It would have been easier to hear about this from someone else than to stand here and witness the fact that someone I possibly loved would be capable of killing a man I looked up too.

When the dust settles how much will be left? Shall I be the same person when the final words are spoken? Will he?

“I am speaking to you now Mr Malfoy. _Only_ you,” Dumbledore starts. Bellatrix snorts.

“Don’t let him get inside your head,” she whispers in Malfoy’s ear.

“I said there was a fine line, remember? It doesn’t matter whether or not what you saw was real or not. Because that fine line was severed? Was it not?” Dumbledore asks with a raised eyebrow. Malfoy freezes up. He checks himself.

“What is he talking about Draco?” Bella huffs in Malfoy’s ear.

“Nothing! It’s nonsense,” Malfoy argues.

“You haven’t lost your chance, Mr Malfoy. Every step forward you take that choice will follow you,” Dumbledore implores.

“Don’t listen to him, Draco. Do it. Do it now!” Bellatrix warns, her patience wearing thin.

“Whether you make the choice right now or later. You will make it at some point and for that, I forgive you,” Dumbledore sighs. Malfoys face rises in surprise. A sort of twisted, complicated disbelief. That a man he is about to murder could forgive him before the act had even been committed.

“Now Draco!” Bellatrix screams. A dark figure appears into the room just as Malfoys arm begins to budge.

“Stop!” Snape calls.

Malfoy steps awkward back as Snape pulls on his shoulder. A roll of thunder can be heard somewhere off into the distance as Snape steps forward to meet Dumbledores solemn gaze.

“Severus,” Dumbledore starts. Bellatrix eyes Snape suspiciously as he and Dumbledore watch one another.

“Please,” Dumbledore reasons.

I lean away from the wall and move forward to get a better view.

“_Avada Kedavra_,” Snape says firmly, a long green stem emitting from his wand and travelling at lightning speed, sending Dumbledore flying over the edges of the Astronomy tower. I look away blinded from the spell briefly. There is a silence before a small thud can be heard in the distance below us. Harry drops back away from the gap in the floor and stumbles clumsily.

Snape grabs Malfoys shoulder and I watch as the shadows move frighteningly fast down the stairwell. I barely see his blonde hair pass. My knees feel weak beneath me as I sway uneasily unsure of what to do with myself.

Dumbledore is dead and it was almost Malfoy who did it. I think back on all the moments we’ve had together and that fact that that knowledge has been there the entire time. He knew all along what he had to do and I understand more now why he worried so much about my opinion of him changing. He had almost murdered a man who had been such an inspiration to us all growing up. Like a second father or mentor to Harry.

But he is still dead. The shock of it wrecks my insides and a sort of derealisation crystalises over me. I float up, up and away from it all as if I was suddenly filled with air.

I look over to find Harry but he’s already gone. When and where had he disappeared too? I scramble up from the ground and fly down the stairs three at a time in an attempt to catch up with them. Once I’m at the bottom floor I feel for possibly the first time in a long time that Hogwarts isn’t safe. The candles that light some of the hallways have been extinguished. I run as fast as I can and when I reach the windowed courtyard I look up and see ‘_his_’ symbol animating in the sky.

I follow- without really thinking- the extinguished candle route because at the back of my mind I know that’s the way they’ve all gone. I don’t know why I follow it. Perhaps I don’t understand that I can stop now. That I don’t have to follow him anymore because the choice that Dumbledore gave him he walked away from. _He walked away from me_.

So why do I keep following? What do I hope to gain? Only more pain surely.

But a part of me- like any rational person- wants there to be an actual conversation between us. That’s usually what makes life so hard. When someone chooses to walk away and you’re left arguing their side too. Words left unsaid can eat away at you harder than anything else. There is so much I never said. Maybe now it is too late. Maybe now they would just fall on deaf ears. Maybe now they are not worth saying at all. Do I even recognise the person who stood atop of the astronomy tower?

When I’m a few hallways away from the Great Hall I spot the end of footsteps rounding a corner up ahead. I push myself harder than I thought possible as I try to reach them before they disappear around another corner like some sort of endless nightmare. I spot Malfoy at the back of the group with Snape moving just ahead of him, Bellatrix leads.

A heat abruptly bursts out of my chest and I scream his name down the hallway. It echoes so loudly it makes my ears hurt and I can’t help but clutch at my throat after the noise stops. The group halts suddenly and I regret my decision immediately. I move deliberately forward as the group searches the empty hallway for the noise. Snape wears a composed but somewhat knowing expression as he watches Malfoy. Malfoy, on the other hand, recognises my voice and doesn’t even try to hide the shame from his face as he looks around the hallway for me.

“What was that?” Bellatrix calls over her shoulder.

“Nothing of concern,” Snape answers.

“Come on so,” she says as she makes her way into the Great Hall. The other Death eaters follow close on her heel.

“One minute,” Snape warns Malfoy as I get closer. Malfoy barely acknowledges him. When he too disappears into the Great Hall Malfoy continues to look around the hallway.

“Where are you?” He calls out rather loudly.

“I’m here,” I answer in a low voice. He juts back, obviously shocked at how close I am. He waves his arms out and I step back, not wanting to be touched.

“What are you doing?” He asks, dropping his hands back to his side before running a nervous hand through his greasy hair.

“I could ask you the same thing,” I throwback. Malfoy grimaces and it is so rare to see him unsettled and so shapeless like this.

The sound of smashing and thrashing emits from the Great Hall as Bellatrix’s toe-curling scream erupts. Malfoy visibly flinches.

“Go back to your room, Granger,” Malfoy commands as he starts to turn around. I grab his arm and pull him back. Stepping back just as quickly so he can’t grab me. His arms enclose around thin air.

“Is that all you have to say to me?” I say unbelievingly, trying to keep the tone of hurt in my voice quiet.

“What do you want me to say?” he requests. I pull the robe off my face and bundle it at my side. Malfoy stares down at the ground.

“I was there. I followed you,” I explain. Malfoy freezes and slowly draws his eyes to mine.

“Why?” He questions. “Why would you be so stupid!” He barks.

“Watch your tone with me,” I snarl back at him. His expression softens as mine hardens.

“Do you know what she would have done to you if she had found you there!” Malfoy berates in a hushed whisper as he watches over his shoulder.

“Should I be afraid of her or should I be afraid of _you_?” I say sardonically. Malfoy twists his mouth and averts his eyes.

“Why didn’t you just tell me? I could have helped you, Malfoy!” I explain.

“Didn’t you hear what Dumbledore said?” Malfoy yells, throwing his arms out in exacerbation.

“It wasn’t real, Granger. He made it up to fuck with my head. Didn’t you get that? Are you that stupid to think it was actually real?” Malfoy argues.

“What are you even trying to achieve here? Did you not see what I almost did up there? Why are you even talking to me?” He asks curiously and it’s a good question. What am I even doing talking to someone who would be capable of that?

“Because I want to hear you say it,” I clarify.

“I am,” he argues.

“No, I want to hear the Malfoy I knew to tell me what happened. Not this person. Because I never knew this person,” I say.

“Oh, but you did. This was the person you knew more than the other version. This was the person I was for the first 5 years of being in this shithole,” Malfoy says his voice rising.

“No, it wasn’t. That was a different person too. Definitely not capable of _that_.” Malfoy huffs in response.

“Is the person I knew gone?” I question solemnly. Malfoy allows the question to sit in the air for a moment before nodding his head in agreement.

“Look at me when you say it,” I argue. Malfoy drags his eyes away from his shoes and looks at me.

“Go back to your dormitory Granger and hide. That person you knew is long gone.” He says convincedly. I bit my bottom lip and nod my head slowly a couple of times before smiling dejectedly.

“Okay,” I say. Malfoy looks a little shocked at my acceptance. I knew he had expected me to argue but if the person I knew is gone then where is the argument.

“I don’t want to argue with a stranger,” I declare. Malfoys eyes close for a moment and when he opens them again I see exactly that. _A stranger_. I smile softly at him because I can’t stop my face.

More sounds of smashing and screaming fill the Great Hall and amongst the chaos of noise and shouting we stare at each other for just a split second. Perhaps at this moment if things had been different we could have shared words with our eyes but his remain closed off and I think mine might be too.

“Goodbye, Draco,” I say softly. I take three steps backwards, looking at his face for the last time.

I commit it to memory and I turn my back on the first boy I truly loved.

_I don’t follow anymore. _


	14. Honesty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!  
Sorry for the long delay I just have lots going on recently. But this story is always at the back of my mind because I really want to finish it and do it justice!  
Anyways here's the next chapter it's more of a filler chapter if I'm honest but its a very important scene that has been a long time coming. I hope you enjoy it and please review and let me know your thoughts.  
As always, Much love <3

**Hermione's Point of View**

When the buzz in the air settles we sit in the Great Hall. Everyone, all together as if it’s the first day of school again. No one really speaks, not even professors. Hagrid eventually enters the Great Hall. Seamus had said that his hut was set ablaze as _they_ left the grounds. It didn’t register all that well with me who _they_ were. I considered them to be Death Eaters but I didn’t allow myself to think that _he_ had been with them. That he had actually left with them. But apparently, he had. It was the main point of most of the huddled whispers. But most people didn’t seem to care. They were not alarmed by the news that Draco Malfoy had left with a group of well know Death Eaters.

The main concern was the fact that Snape had left with them. Our own professor who we knew and somewhat trusted had killed Dumbledore and left as if that was the only reason he had ever been here in the first place. Two parallel lines running alongside one another for years only to eventually deviate their path and meet. But I knew that wasn’t true of course. I knew why Snape had done it. He had done it so Malfoy wouldn’t have too. In a way, I am grateful to him. I don’t know what exactly I feel towards Malfoy now but I am grateful that he is still somewhat untarnished. I know it cannot last because we’ve finally come to the end of it. The end of our innocent. Now the great war shall begin. We all know it. Everyone sitting in this hall can feel it. Soon people will start to apparate home. There is no more school, no more classes, no more aimless chats in the common room or the Great hall. No more panic over schoolwork or mindless flirting. It’s all gone now with a simple flick of a wand. Now there is just war.

Ginny slides into the seat beside me and stares ahead at the empty table. Eventually, Harry and Ron join and we sit in this kind of awkward silence. I don’t know if Ron and Ginny feel the awkwardness but I feel it thick in the back of my throat. I look at Harry to find him staring at me with a strange expression. He doesn’t know I was there on the tower so he doesn’t know I heard everything. I look down.

“I heard something interesting,” Harry starts and Ron perks up before noticing Harrys intense stare. I knew that it needed to happen I just didn’t think the conversation would happen right now. In front of both Ron and Ginny. I am laid bare across this table now to be picked apart. But I guess I knew this was inevitable. The more steps I took towards Malfoy the furthered I strayed away from the person I promised I would always stand beside. I look at both Harry and Ron and I think is this it? My emancipation from the golden trio. Perhaps I deserve it. Would I have felt different if Malfoy had stayed? Am I left with this thought because Malfoy didn’t give me a choice?

“What?” Ron interjects. Ginny takes my hand beneath the table and I’m grateful. She’s caught on very quickly to what is about to happen.

“On the tower. Dumbeldore revealed some surprising details,” Harry says, his tone taking on a slightly malicious tone.

“Harry!” Ginny warns.

“What? Did you know too?” Harry asks, turning his anger towards Ginny.

“Know what?” Ron asks, cluelessly.

“About Hermione and Malfoy,” Harry says and I watch as the words filtered up and hang in the air above us. It’s finally been said.

“What?” Ron laughs. Harry's eyes narrow in on Ginny.

“Yes, I did know,” Ginny informs him. Harry nods slowly.

“So, you told her but not us, and you kept it from us!” Harry bellows out. A few heads turn in our general direction.

“It wasn’t my place to tell. Harry lower your voice right this second!” Ginny warns and Harry’s eyes turn down for a moment.

“Can someone please tell me what’s going on?” Ron interjects. I turn and stare up at him.

“Hermione?” He questions with a disbelieving expression.

“Did you know _this_ was going to happen?” Harry asks. I open and close my mouth, unable to speak. Like a fish bubbling in the water.

“Harry give the girl a break okay! Stop yelling at her!” Ginny warns again.

“Why should I? She clearly knew this was coming and she didn’t say anything to us. To me even! Dumbledore died today Ginny, or have you just brushed that off?”

“Of course not, but she is still your best friend and people make mistakes Harry. I’m sure you’ve made your fair share of them!” Ginny yells across the table. My cheeks flush bright red as more heads turn our way. When did I turn into the person that needed Ginny to fight their battles for them?

“I didn’t know this was coming. I just knew something bad was going to happen,” I start. “I didn’t know it would be anything along these lines. I never expected_ this_ Harry _I swear_!”

Harry rolls his eyes.

“I’m sorry can someone please explain what the hell is going on? Harry, why are you so angry?” Ron asks. I squeeze Ginny’s hand.

“Care to explain Hermione?” Harry asks.

“Harry stop it!” Ginny argues.

“No why should I explain when she’s the one whose been running off with a Death Eater all year behind our backs! You did know he was a Death Eater?”

Ron suddenly turns to me and his expression is the one I wanted desperately to avoid.

“What?”

“She’s been with Malfoy,” Harry informs Ron.

“Malfoy? As in Draco Malfoy? The person we all despise more than anything?” Ron asks, aghast. I can’t look at him.

“Was he worth _this_, Hermione? Really? I mean he’s gone now, clearly, you must not have meant that much to him if he could just walk away when he was called?” Harry says.

Something in me suddenly snaps. Maybe it’s the remembrance of how easily Malfoy chose to leave. How easy it was for him to leave all of this. Or maybe the pressure of everything has finally reached boiling point and my emotions have started to flow out over the pot.

“You don’t know _anything_! Not a _thing_ about what happened or how hard it was for me. You don’t know how many times I wanted to talk to you about it but you were always in your own little bubble it was so hard for me to say it. I mean you would have never understood it. You would have disowned me just because of some grudge against Malfoy you formed in the first year.”

“Do not blame us for your cowardice,” Harry warns. “Your loyalties laid somewhere different this year.”

“I know lying to you both was wrong. I know that. But this is the first time I was ever in this situation and it was not an easy situation, okay. I didn’t know what to do and I was just so lost and confused by it. I should have told you and for that, I am _so_ sorry, Harry. _Really_, I am. But he is not the monster you think he is,” I explain.

Harry throws his hands up in a huff.

“What you expect me to believe that because he whispered some nonsense in your ear that made you believe that. It’s Draco Malfoy we’re talking about. I think his actions today just proves my point about him!”

“He didn’t kill Dumbledore!” I shout.

“Yeah, but he was going to Hermione! Don’t you get that? He let the Death Eaters in. He made that choice. Him alone!”

“He wasn’t going too, Harry. He lowered his wand!”

“How do you know that?” Harry and Ron ask simultaneously. Harrys eyebrows furrow together.

“You were there? Weren’t you?” Harry asks. I nod.

“With my cloak?” I nod again.

“I knew that I heard something when I was there. I just assumed it had been Snape,” Harry informs.

“So what? You just followed him wherever he went?” Harry asks. “Why don’t you go follow him off into the woods with the other traitors?”

“Harry Potter you stop that right now!” Ginny bursts out, slamming her hands down on the table.

“I was there from the very start with her and this was not easy for her. Hermione struggled the entire time with what was happening and keeping it from you and Ron. I can understand now why she did. You’re treating her like scum on the end of your shoe. How dare you talk to your best friend like that. You forget she has stood beside you through thick and thin for the last six years. Unquestionably. She did everything and anything you asked. And now she has made one mistake and you’re ready to throw her to the dogs!”

“Ginny, it’s okay, really. I deserve this,” I mumble to Ginny, trying to pull her back down into the seat.

“No, you don’t! You don’t deserve this,” she shouts down at me before turning her attention back to Harry.

“If you want to talk about it then talk about it. Just don’t speak to her as if she is a stranger,” Ginny warns, visibly calming herself as she tucks her skirt in before sitting back down. I take her hand under the table again to find its burning hot.

“Thank you,” I whisper. She smiles at me.

Harry resettles his glasses on his face and looks towards Ron who looks more confused than ever.

“So, you heard what Dumbledore said about the award then I take it?” Harry asks, his voice considerably more controlled this time.

“Yes, I heard,” I say, swallowing back a lump.

“So, you heard it was a lie Dumbledore made up. The whole entire award! Everything that Malfoy saw?” I can feel Harry pushing at my barriers. It’s only natural. He wants me to see the situation from his point of view. Emphatically. But I can only see what I saw. I try to think of the Malfoy that I knew when I speak. Not the stranger I said goodbye too.

“The award wasn’t real?” Ron asks, confused, staring between the two of us. Although Ron interjects every now and again this is truly a conversation between Harry and me with two witnesses.

“No. Dumbledore made it up as a way of trying to dissuade Malfoy. I guess he knew the Dark Lord has ordered Malfoy to kill him,” Harry explains.

“I do have one question, though?” Harry says. I meet his gaze.

“What did Malfoy actually see in the pensive?” he asks. I can feel Ron lean in. I guess if I don’t speak now and be honest then I will miss my chance for good.

“He saw _us_,” I admit. Harry leans in close this time. I sigh.

“He saw us, _together_.” I elaborate.

“What, like _romantically_?” Ron asks.

“Obviously, Ron,” Ginny sighs.

“He saw us I guess, and our lives together. He saw our son and I guess all of it. Our future,” I say rambling, unsure as I watch the boys take in my words. 

“It was a clever plan, I guess,” Harry admits. “I mean you fell for it pretty easily,” Harry says.

“Harry!” Ginny warns.

“I don’t care about whether or not it was all fake or just some huge joke-

“But you should Hermione. Can you _honestly_ sit there and believe that Malfoy didn’t trick you? Maybe he knew all along too?” Harry asks.

“Can you not see where I’m coming from?” Harry asks, more urgently this time.

“I can and I understand you’re concerned Harry but I don’t care if it was a lie,” I admit.

“Why?”

“Because of what came from that lie. You may never get to see what I saw but I know what kind of person Malfoy is or _was_ or is _capable_ of being. He is the same as any one of us sitting at this table. A scared kid in the face of war,” I say.

Harry sits back and runs a frustrated hand through his hair.

“I’ll see you at the burrow Ginny. Come on Ron,” Harry says as he stands and stalks off down the hallway. Ron leaves awkwardly from the table, shooting me a confused look over his shoulder.

“So, I guess I’m not invited to the Burrow,” I admit.

“Of course, you are. I invite you. It’s my house, not his,” Ginny assures me. “Don’t mind him he’s just in shock. He’s processing everything.”

“I don’t know Ginny. I mean he was really angry,” I sigh.

“Come on let’s go and get our things. It looks like people are starting to leave.” I look around and notice Professor McGonagall rounding up people near the entrance.

* * *

When we arrive at the Burrow Harry stalks off upstairs and Molly gives us a concerned look.

“He’s fine,” Ginny explains, embracing her mother. I follow quickly behind and it feels nice to be held tightly by her.

“Go and settle in upstairs dear. Dinner will be ready in an hour,” Molly says. I smile politely at her as I carry my suitcase up the stairs to the very top attic. I plunk my suitcase down on the bed and unpack my clothes quietly. I can hear the sound of the boys on the floor below me, talking low. I imagine the conversation is about me. I dismiss that thought and make myself a cup of tea with the kettle on the third floor and make my way back upstairs.

I take up shelter on the window seat and sip on the hot tea as I watch the high grass sway in the light breeze outside. I think of Malfoy out there somewhere in the world. I think about the fact that I might possibly never see him again and the thought sends a throbbing pain to my head. I lean forward and close my eyes and a few tears escape. My mind wanders uncontrollably to his smell and the feeling of his soft lips pressed warmly against mine. This causes the tears to flow even more. I put the tea down and swipe furiously at my face trying to rid myself of the tears but they don’t stop. I let my head drop down into my lap for a moment and try and breathe through it.

There’s a creak on the stairs and I wipe as fast as I can at my face. Harry appears coming up the stairs. He notices my expression and stops dead on the stairs.

“Do you nee- Are you okay?” He asks awkwardly.

“I’m fine. I’m fine,” I assure him, wiping my face. He walks up the remainder of the steps and picks my tea up from the windowsill, handing it back to me as he takes its place.

“Thank you,” I say, wiping my sleeve over my face. I try to smile hoping it might compensate for my puffy red cheeks. He takes in my expression and frowns slightly.

“About earlier. I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for shouting at you so much.”

“It’s okay. I guess shouting is allowed in that situation,” I admit.

“No Ginny is right. I was very harsh on you without really knowing the full story,” Harry explains. I nod.

“_So_,” Harry starts, awkwardly.

“_So_,” I say for something to say. I take a sip of my tea and stare out the window.

“What happened Hermione? _Really_. How did we get to this point? I thought we knew everything about one another? Why didn’t you tell me?” Harry asks, all the words rushing out of his mouth as quickly as if the breeze outside has just run through him, pushing the words out in their wake.

“I’m sorry, Harry. Really I am. I don’t know why I didn’t say anything. I guess I was just terrified of losing _you_. Of losing _Ron_. That was the last thing I wanted and I didn’t know what to say or how to say it and the longer it went on the more there was to tell and it just mounted up and mounted up to the point where I couldn’t speak,” I say, rambling just as much as Harry.

“I won’t pretend to understand what happened or how it is even remotely possible. Because I just can’t picture it in my head, Hermione. I can’t picture you and Malfoy that way. It just doesn’t seem real to me,” Harry says. I sip on my tea trying to get some saliva in my mouth.

“This wasn’t something that happened overnight, Harry. It wasn’t something that just happened one day and continued. It was a long battle that we both didn’t want. We both fought so hard against it, believe me. But it just happened anyway and once it did…I don’t know.” I sigh.

“But he hated you, Hermione. For _years_! How could he just suddenly change?”

“I think he wanted too. I know you’ll find that hard to believe because he chose to leave with them. But I think once he saw what he saw in the Pensieve he wanted a way out of it. But I think he was scared, Harry. He was scared that something would happen to his family or to him. I think he did try. I saw a change in him. It was enough for me. I know it might be enough for you but it was enough for me. That’s what changed my mind,” I admit.

Harry grows quiet, muddling over the words I’ve said as we both fall silent. The sound of the breeze outside is the only noise in the air.

“Do you really care for him?”

“Yes, I did.”

“_Did_? As in you _don’t_ anymore?” he asks. I feel the pressure behind my eyes start to push in and a few tears start to fall again.

“I’m sorry I don’t mean to make you cry. I’m just trying to understand.” Harry assures me.

“I said goodbye,” I admit, wiping away the tears.

“You saw him before he left?” He asks taken back.

“I followed him with the cloak on. I don’t know maybe I thought I could change his mind. I just wanted an explanation. I wanted to know why he hadn’t told me about what the Dark Lord had ordered him to do.”

“You really didn’t know?”

“No, I didn’t know. He told me something bad was coming. He gave me an idea of when it would be and I knew it was going to bed bad because that last night we spent together he was so different. He knew it was going to be our last time together,” I explain. I watch Harry warily as I speak wondering with each word is it going to be too much for him. But he wanted to talk so I’m going to talk. It feels good to say it out loud. To finally talk aloud about it all.

“It’s so weird to hear you talk about him like this. Like you knew him,” Harry confesses.

“I did know him. I probably knew him better than anyone,” I admit.

“The person I said Goodbye too wasn’t the person I knew though. That wasn’t the Draco Malfoy I knew,” I say.

“Maybe that was the person he always was underneath? Did you ever think of that?”

“Harry I know you’re going to think the worst no matter what but can’t you just trust me when I say that I didn’t just fall at his feet. I put up a strong front. I’m not a moron, Harry. I would have known if he was bullshitting me the entire time. It didn’t feel like that.”

“I’m sorry Hermione. It’s just really hard for me. Perhaps you were just looking too closely?”

“Perhaps you are unwilling to look at all?” I fire back. Harry smirks slightly and the tension between us relaxes.

“What would have happened if he had stayed? After, I mean, when you spoke with him?” Harry asks curiously. I consider this for a moment.

“I would have stood by him as I have stood by you for years,” I admit honestly because I would have. I would have stood at his side and defended him.

“That might not have meshed well,” Harry says.

“What do you mean?”

“The four of us. You, Malfoy, Ron and I,” Harry laughs.

“I guess but if he had stayed things would have been different,” I say somewhat dreamily.

“But he didn’t stay, Hermione. I think that’s something you need to remember when you’re remembering what once was.”

“I know,” I say sheepishly. 

“I don’t know if I could have accepted it,” Harry admits suddenly.

“The idea of you and him. _Together_,” he adds.

“If you knew him as I did you would have,” I explain.

“He will never be good enough for you, Hermione. Someone like you deserves the world!” Harry exclaims.

“Is it not enough that I _was happy_?”

“You were happy? With him? Really?”

“Yes, Harry. I actually was. I mean we fought all the time and he infuriated me to no end. But I was happy with him. I never knew him at all for so long and I never knew that person was capable of being inside of the cold front he always put up. But he made me happy,” I say. “For a little while at least,” I add, with a small laugh.

“I guess I always thought you had a thing for Ron,” he admits.

“So did I. For a while,” I clarify. “Malfoy just sort of-“

“Came out of nowhere?” Harry laughs. I join in with him and it feels so good to laugh again with him. It’s felt like years since we’ve been on the same page let alone in the same book.

“Hermione?” Harry asks seriously. I stop laughing and stare at him.

“Did you love him?” The question starts my heart rate soaring. I take a deep sip of the tea as Harry searches my face for the answer.

“You did, didn’t you?”

“I think I did Harry.”

He nods slowly, staring out the window again. I follow suit.

“Did he love you?”

“Yes.”

“Then why did he leave, Hermione?” Harry asks intensely. I’ve been asking myself the same question since I walked away from him today.

“Because a boy was asked to make a man’s decision and fear was the only thing he could see. He couldn’t even see _me_,” I admit, honestly. Harry weights this up.

“I can understand fear,” Harry confesses. Harry’s words are the first time he has agreed with me on anything so far today.

“Thank you,” I say, sobbing slightly. Harry wraps his arms around me suddenly, pulling me close.

“I thought it meant that you were going to leave,” Harry admits into my arm.

“I would never leave, Harry. Ron and I promised we would always be here for you. I’ll always honour that promise,” I assure him.

“I’m sorry I was just worried I was going to lose you is all.”

“I’m not going anywhere. It will always be us three against the world,” I laugh. He joins in.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”


	15. The Forest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!  
So here's the next chapter. Finally, as many of you have asked we're going to get to see from Draco's POV.  
So please review and let me know what you think. I'm anxious to hear what you think of the story as a whole so far!  
So please drop a review and let me know.  
Enjoy!  
Much love <3

* * *

_ One year later_.

* * *

**Hermione’s Point of View**

I am different now.

That is the simplest way I can state it if asked. I am _different_. I have learned -as many do with time- that age doesn’t mean shit. It is time and experiences that truly age and mature us. Some of the things that happened last year feel like decades ago or even lifetimes ago. I was a different person then who spoke, acted and thought differently. I am still me in most aspects; at surface level. But deep down I feel as if the mechanical wheels have slowed down or even sped up to a point that just feels completely new and bizarre. But I adjust because I have too. Endure and survive.

At the start when the three of us set out we had high expectations I guess. It seems silly and immature to look back on now. But we thought that hunting Horcruxes would be somewhat easy with Harry to guide us. But the process became painfully slow and the confined quarters between the three of us led to many heated words and painful arguments. But we didn’t dwell on it or even resolve any of the issues. We just move forward because we have no energy for it.

I would say that each one of us is different now in our own ways. Harry is angrier than he used to be and Ron rarely cracks any jokes anymore. I am as silent as ever. Speaking mostly when spoken too. I cannot help it or remember when it started but it is just who I am now. The silence is deafeningly loud. But it is what we have grown accustomed too.

The first few months were the hardest because I couldn’t seem to let go of the girl who had loved Draco Malfoy and the girl I had been for seventeen years. But once she was gone it was easier to cope. It felt like that for me anyways but Harry, on the other hand, watched me all of the time and it set me on edge. It led to many arguments between us. He argued that I wasn’t talking enough and my issues were clearly manifesting with my sudden weight loss. I argued back but I often didn’t have a leg to stand on.

I didn’t allow myself to think about him. About what he might be doing out there in the world. Well, I tried. When the thoughts would come I would clean regardless of what time of day it was. I would clean until there was nothing left to clean or I collapsed first. As time has gone on I realise now it wasn’t the best coping mechanism and I can’t say I’ve gained back much of the weight I lost but I’m not dropping weight anymore and that’s enough to quell Harry’s questions and worries. He doesn’t watch me half as much anymore.

We are not the kids who entered this war anymore. Now we are these three lost adults because we have to be. It would eat us alive. It was inevitable from day one that we were going to have to adapt or die. Sometimes I don’t know which decision was the best one. I don’t know how much of us will be left when this is all over. Whether we’ll be left at all. Whether the things we said in war will be held up for questioning when this is all over.

We move through a sort of ghost land now. Sometimes it seems as if someone has dropped a bomb on England and just wiped everyone else out except for the three of us. I don’t worry about running into him anymore as I used too at the start. Because we can go weeks sometimes without seeing or hearing from anyone. We travel from wasteland to wasteland, laying low. It often feels more like hiding than a hunt for Horcruxes but I never say that aloud. Even though I am not the only one who feels that way.

It didn’t take long for Ron’s anger to show either. Within the first two months, we spoke briefly about what had happened with Malfoy. Ron had admitted some things I wish he hadn’t but I understood that he needed to get them off of his chest. So I listened. But when he started asking ‘_Why Malfoy?_’ it hurt to think back on it. To sit there and actively remember the reasons I had been so drawn to him and how he had made me feel. But it was worse when Ron had asked ‘_Why not me?_’ That one hurt. Because that one didn’t have an answer.

It was not a simple either-or question that I could placate him with an answer. Once Malfoy came into colour there was no one else I could see. These feelings and realisations overcame me in the first few months. I realised more about myself and about him and what we had in those first few months than the entire time we had been an ‘_us_’. If that’s what we were. That was when eating became a problem. I don’t dwell on it now. I cannot allow myself too anymore. Each one of us knows that we have to make a conscious effort to keep it together. If one of us cracks we all come tumbling down. I am trying to avoid the fallout. I am so _desperately_ trying.

* * *

When we feel the earth; fresh and new- beneath us I look around and it’s exactly as I remember it. Harry drops his bag to the grass and stares ahead.

“Why here?” he asks turning his head to me slightly. I drop my bag beside his and stare ahead at the river barely visible through the thick thicket ahead.

“I used to come here with mum and dad when I was younger,” I admit. Although it had been somewhat easier travelling between safe house because we had the opportunity to leave a concealed note behind to any other members who might visit the safe house after us. It felt like the right choice to come here.

“I thought we were going to Manchester?” Ron asks.

“I thought the fresh air could do us good,” I argue before the two boys can start. Ron simply nods his head as he takes off towards the sound of the river up ahead.

“I’ll put up the tent so I guess,” Harry says, leaning down to rummage through his bag.

I watch as Harry takes over an hour to set up the tent because he refuses to use magic.

“I’ll set up the wards,” I call over my shoulder when it starts to hit twilight.

At the bottom of the hill, I turn around making sure the radius is far enough away from the camp that if anyone decides to breach it we have enough time to drop and run. I can just about see Harry's head moving around on top. I raise my arms and decide against it for a second. I sit down in the base of an old tree trunk and stare ahead. There's a small lake at the base of this hill that has seemed to overflow from a recent period of heavy rain. The birds flutter around the small oasis throwing the water over their backs and shaking it off with their wings. I remember the birds doing that in the birdbath my father had built in the back garden.

I think of my time here camping as a child and running as fast as I could up the hills and sliding down them in the dirt and muck with my father. That feels like a lifetime ago now.

I am different now.

I set the wards and turn to take off back up the hill before the boys can start tearing each other apart over food.

Suddenly as if someone has interrupted my trail of thought I hear a sound.

* * *

**Draco’s Point of View. **

“How long have we been walking?” Blaise groans beside me.

“Can’t be more than 45 minutes,” I say. Blaise groans again.

“Stop giving out!” I warn to which Blaise just rolls his eyes.

“It’s only another 20 minutes to the apparate point. We have to check the area,” I explain for the fourth time.

“I know I’m just tired. I’ve been holed up in a house with Pansy for the last four days ‘_awaiting instructions.’_” He does the bunny ears with his hands for the last part.

“Besides, do they really believe it’s going to be Potter who breached the apparition wards here?” Blaise asks.

“Have to be safe though,” I admit, repeating what Yaxley had said. I know realistically Potter isn’t stupid enough to apparate to the middle of this random forest in the south of England. There’s nothing around for miles either way.

“Had to listen to Pansy sob about Astoria for four whole days Malfoy,” he adds with a deep grunt at the end.

“Shit man, I feel for you,” I say brushing my hand over the back of my neck. Pansy has become _extra_ intense since the war started. Shes even moodier if that were possible. The Pansy I knew back in Hogwarts is but a distant memory. But I suppose we’re all different now in our own ways.

“They think she purposely walked out in front of that curse you know,” Blaise supplies.

“I heard,” I say.

“Do you think she would do that?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m not sure. I didn’t really know her all that well,” I admit.

“Guess neither of us is going to get to marry her,” he jokes. I chuckle a little, kicking a loose branch on the ground as we make our way through the forest.

“But then again. She wasn’t much your type, to begin with, now was she? You like em quiet I hear?” Blaises supplies as he kicks a branch I've kicked in his direction. I roll my eyes at him.

“Are we going to do this all the time now, Blaise?” I question. “Why do you always want to talk about Hogwarts?”

“Because for the last fucking year almost nothing had happened Malfoy. I’m bored shitless sitting around in safe houses just to get moved to another safe house. I’m sick of this I need a bit of excitement. At least when we were in Hogwarts stuff was actually happening all the time.”

“Are you not tired of this?” he asks. I weigh this question up for a moment. I thought before that I would give anything to go back to waiting. To the waiting that happens before war. But I’ve just moved from waiting to waiting with not much happening in between. I guess I should savour it before it suddenly comes crushing down.

“Yeah,” I answer quietly. Blaise nods his head slowly.

“Me too, man,” he replies.

Blaise and I are different now. Our relationship is less forced, more natural if you will. We are no longer playing a calculated game of chess when we talk to one another. We are friends now. Real friends stemmed from long hours waiting in safe houses with no one to talk to but one another. He’s the only one I can tolerate to talk to for an extended period of time without losing my mind. He has changed a good deal since the start of all of this. He would never admit it fully but I don’t think he’s head is in it anymore. In retrospect, this is not our war. It’s our parents. I can’t help feeling the same way sometimes. I think it is this unspoken understanding that has shaped our relationship into what it is today.

“So you know what we could talk about to fill the time?” Blaise asks with a smirk painted smugly across his face. I glare at him.

“What?” he questions throwing his hands up in a sheepish defence. He knows what he's doing. I’m less angry about it now than I used to be at the start. Blaise asks about _her_ all the time. He tries his arm. Always poking at me to see if today will be the day I finally talk about it.

“Drop it Blaise will you? I’m not in the mood,” I say, sighing.

“Malfoy come on! Talk with me I’m so socially starved of a good conversation. I didn’t get a word in for four days with Pansy. I deserve a good conversation after that don’t you think?”

“Then talk to Yaxley when we get back,” I suggest.

“Ha! Very funny. That guy barely speaks,” Blaise says. “Not like you can deny it anyways. I caught you with her,” he adds under his breath at the end. I sigh loudly.

“I’m not denying it I just don’t want to talk about it,” I admit. Blaise smirks at me devilishly.

“What?” I argue. He smirks again.

“That’s the first time in all the times I’ve asked you about it that you haven’t denied it,” Blaise explains. I groan kicking a rock. It soars ahead skipping through a lake that’s formed after the recent heavy showers.

“I have to take a piss hold on,” Blaise says, taking off towards the trees to our left.

“Why are you going so far in?” I shout.

“Privacy asshole!” he calls back. I step up the hills incline a bit as I wait. Blaise hums a show tune as I hear his urine start. I roll my eyes.

“It was a bit of a shock I will admit,” Blaise calls out.

“What?”

“When I realised you had a thing for the Mudblood,” Blaise calls back.

“Not having this conversation,” I shout back at him.

I step forward and a sweet, somewhat fruity smell is carried towards me with the passing of the breeze.

“You know you can talk to me Malfoy,” he calls. The thing is that I do know I can talk to him. Blaise is currently the closest I am with anyone since the start of this war. He has a level head and he’s proven that he’s loyal and trust wordy. But it’s not Blaise that’s the problem. I don’t want to talk about her. _Ever_. I want to pretend that she never existed and I pray each day when we’re holed up in a safe house that I won’t run into her that day.

“Can’t believe she ever liked you though,” he calls out and I roll my eyes.

“Thought her and Weasel were set to have a full litter together,” he says.

“He wishes,” I mumble under my breath. 

“Doubt you’ll ever see her again though. None of them has been spotted in over four months now,” Blaise calls.

I step forward up the hill, my foot sliding a little on the soggy earth. My eyes snap ahead as a slight glimmer of light reflects off of seemingly nothing ahead of me. Something is off. I think of calling Blaise but my intrigue gets the better of me. I feel a tingling all around my body as I step through a slight force that tries to push me back. I push through, my arm first and step into it. When I look up I see the top of a tent barely visible at the top of the hill with a small trail of smoke dispersing into the sky. Ahead of me, about an arm's length away; Granger stands with her arms outstretched, nearly touching my chest and the look of sheer panic etched into every corner of her face like she was trying to prevent me walking through the ward she has clearly set up.

The realisation comes crashing down on me like gravity has just increased dramatically. I look up towards the tent up at the top of the hill again and I can bet my life on it that Potter and the Weasel are up there right now. So it was them that set of the wards. What are the chances? The wards here have been set of four times in the last few months. The first time it was a group of travellers passing through so the next two alarms went unaddressed. It was only because Blaise was annoying Yaxley this morning that he sent us out here in the first place.

Granger steps back, almost losing her footing as I watch her think about running back up the hill towards the boys. I look back towards Blaise to see if he’s come back out from behind the trees yet but he hasn’t. Granger watches me warily as she reaches for her wand. I don’t reach for mine. I simply stare at her now that the shock has somewhat worn off. It was her perfume I had smelt just a moment ago carrying itself towards me on the breeze. She looks much different now. It is hard to see anything through the panic in her eyes. I can’t tell what she's thinking when she looks at me. But her hand stays close to her pocket where I know her wand is. She doesn’t trust me. I suppose maybe I don’t trust her either. Its been over a year since we last saw one another.

She has strayed so far away from the women I saw her be in the glimpse of her future. But I suppose that doesn’t matter anymore. Because it was never real in the first place. She was never supposed to be that girl anyways. She is so slim now. So much that the oversized jumper she wears -probably belonging to one of the boys- hangs almost down to her knees. When did she become so small and fragile? She looks like glass. Sickly pale glass.

She swipes her hair back behind her ears as she notices me scrutinising her. My how times have changed. I was worried before that she wouldn’t be able to look at me the same after what I had been ordered to do. But now- standing here- we are but mere strangers to one another. She knows it and I know it too. We are not the people we were in Hogwarts nor can we ever be again. I wonder has she seen the things wrote about me in the Prophet. Looking at her dishevelled appearance I gather it’s been a while since she’s been into a store to pick one up.

Grangers eyes dart towards the sound of Blaise's voice and back to mine again as she takes another step back up towards the top of the hill. If I speak now Blaise will surely hear.

“Blaise?” I call. Grangers eyes turn murderous for a second as she glares at me. How I used to love that expression. If I just call again this can all be over finally. If I just call Blaise’s name a little louder this can finally be over. No more waiting in safe houses for days or weeks on end with nothing to do. No more long hauls of not sleeping and barely having enough food to feed everyone. No more disappointed looks from my father or sneers directed at my family during official meetings. It can finally be over if I just say the right thing now. If I can just do what I was meant to do that day on the tower this can all be over.

“No,” she whispers in a panic. More of a slip of the tongue I imagine. I have not heard her voice in over a year. At least that still sounds the same. My stomach starts to twist. Somewhere that seems so far away and yet right in front of my face, I see Dumbledores face in my mind's eye.

“Yeah, I’m almost finished!” He calls back. Granger takes another step back, her foot slipping on the mud sending her flying onto her backside. She pulls out her wands and points it at me. Her arm shakes tremendously as she tries to right her stance again. My resolve changes because it had only been a fleeting idea in the first place. I would turn Potter in in a heartbeat. But not her. Not when I know what they would do to her if she was caught. I mouth the word _‘listen’_ as I glare at her to stop squirming and making such a fuss. She stops and looks between me and the direction of Blaise in utter bewilderment.

“How far behind are Greyback and the others?” I call out, watching Grangers face squeeze together in confusion.

“Em, about half an hour I imagine?” he questions. I’m aware that in my present position that I am invisible to Blaise inside her wards. I hear the sound of shuffling coming from the trees and if I don’t step out from her wards now Blaise won’t be able to see me and who knows what could happen then. I watch as Granger takes in this information.

“And how far to the apparate point?” I call out, watching her intensely again. The anger in her face dissipates and I wish that it hadn’t. Because now I can finally see her. She purses her bottom lip tightly upwards and her eyes turn solemn as she watches me. She takes another step back as she watches Blaise step out from a large tree. I step forward so I’m hidden behind a tree myself. I watch as Blaise looks around, confused.

“What is it? Fifteen minutes away now? Must be. Where are you?” he calls, turning around. I look at Granger one last time. How long it has been since I have seen that face. I clearly don’t have a good memory because there is so much of it that seemed so fuzzy up until just now. How could I forget her hair colour? It’s much lighter than I remember. Almost auburn now.

“Why have you gone quiet?” he calls out, his voice carrying up around the forest. “Thinking about Granger?” he jokes. I feel my stomach drop as Granger's head darts back to mine.

At the top of the hill, I notice a figure start making its way down and when he’s in sight he stops and stares at us. It’s Potter. Granger turns her head up towards him as he drops something in his hand from the shock. Time is running out. I move towards Granger and grab her arm a little too roughly. I pull her attention back to mine as I pull her in close. I grab the back of her neck and lean in close to her ear. Close enough so she can hear me but Blaise can not. But not close enough that I’m actually touching her.

“Get your shit and go now. Greyback is behind us. You breached the wards in this area. Walk thirty minutes in that direction before you apparate. Don’t leave any trace behind you. They can track that kind of shit. Go to Edinborough. Do not even attempt to go back to London,” I warn. Harry watches unsure from overhead. He’s noticed Blaise now. I turn towards him for a second before Grangers deep exhale catches my attention again.

I squeeze the back of her neck for a second, breathing deeply. Her scent assaulting me all the while.

“Hide Granger. They have your picture posted at the safe houses,” I explain, more quietly this time.

“Now go!” I say, more forcefully this time as I push her backwards. She staggers for a second unsure as she looks between Blaise, Potter and I before turning and taking off running up towards Potter.

Potter and I stare off briefly before he too turns and joins Granger. I watch as they disappear over the hill.

“Come on Malfoy this isn’t funny anymore?” Blaise calls.

I step out of the ward and it all disappears as if none of it was ever real in the first place. I step around the tree and pull down my zipper quickly. As I walk up to Blaise he exhales in relief. I pull up my zipper.

“Sorry. I was taking a piss too,” I say as I take off walking ahead of him.

“Don’t do that man. You scared the shit out of me!” Blaise exclaims.

“What you thought I was kidnapped or something?” I laugh. Blaise joins in.

“They’d give you back just as fast. Trust me,” he jokes. I turn my head back up to where the campsite had been and I see nothing. I wonder can she still see me.

“Let’s go,” I say more forcefully this time. The sooner we get back the sooner Greyback joins us and I know the forest is safe.

* * *

**Hermione’s Point of View**

Harry grabs me at the top of the hill.

“What the fuck Hermione? Did you contact him somehow?” Harry shouts.

“Are you serious?” I shout back. Ron emerges from the tent with a worried expression.

“He practically came out of nowhere. He happened to walk into the ward and see me!”

“What's going on?” he calls to us as we reach the tent.

“Pack up! We’re moving now,” I demand.

“But we just got here!” Ron argues.

“What did he say to you?” Harry asks, grabbing my attention.

“He told me that there are other Death Eaters moving through the forest. Apparently, we set off some apparition wards when we entered the forest. They’re searching the area for the culprits,” I explain.

“He’s planning something,” Harry muses.

“Did you not just see that?” I shout, throwing down a book, hard onto the table. The bang silences Ron's insufferable questioning.

“I saw Malfoy yes,” Harry answers.

“Malfoy?” Ron shouts, confused as ever.

“He could have turned us in there but he didn’t, okay? He warned me. He said we have to get out of here now. So I’m not sticking around to test his word okay. Let's move, now!” I shout grabbing everything from the table and putting them in my bag.

“Dissasemble the tent as fast as you can and chuck it in the bag. We can sort it out later. Don’t leave anything behind,” I say.

Harry watches me warily as he stares towards where Malfoy had just been standing.

“Harry come on!” I argue, stopping what I’m doing as I wait for him to move.

“Do you still trust him? After all this time, Hermione. Really? It just feels off to me,” Harry worries.

I’m not sure how to answer the question. My body is still shaking from adrenaline and I’m so dizzy from it that I can barely make Harry out at the moment.

“I don’t know Harry. I just know that he wasn’t lying just now,” I say.

“How can you be so sure?” he asks.

“Look, Harry. I’m not asking you to trust Malfoy. I’m asking you to trust me. I believe what he just said right now. Do you trust me?”

“Of course,” Harry answers.

“Then get moving,” I demand. Harry grabs his bag and moves quicker than I expect into the tent to start taking it down. I breathe a sigh of relief.

When the campsite is clear I pour some dirt on top of the fire so it doesn’t look like it was lite recently. We take off up the hill in the direction Malfoy had pointed out. I see a thick bush ahead.

“Here this way,” I say, waving the boys over. I push through the branches creating a path for the other two to follow. Suddenly as if someone had pulled the earth from beneath me I start falling, tumbling forward, sliding all the way down a deep cliff. I hear a crack somewhere and I’m not sure if it’s a bone or my wand. When I finally hit the earth my head feels so heavy. I hear the shouts of Harry and Ron from very far away. I lean my head upwards and spit the dirt out from between my teeth. I look ahead and see my wand lying on the ground just ahead. I reach out to grab it but a heavy boot steps on my hand, crushing one of my knuckles. I scream out in pain as the sound carries throughout the forest.

“Hello Beautiful,” a deep voice whispers.


	16. The Flood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya Guys!  
Heres the next chapter. Let me know what you think! I put a lot of effort into this chapter and I do hope ye enjoy it.  
Please review!  
Much Love <3

**Draco’s Point of View**

When we apparate back into the small house on the coast of Brighton, Blaise pushes through the door first. It seems to have gotten more crowded now than when we left a few hours ago.

“Jesus they’ve multiplied since we’ve gone,” Blaise exclaims coming in the door. Pansy stands up amongst the crowd in the small, dingy kitchen.

“Malfoy,” she calls, whizzing passing several curious eyes and flying into me. I wrap my arms around her and she grips me tightly. Blaise turns and rolls his eyes at me dramatically.

“You alright,” I whisper into her hair and she shakes her head against my shoulder. It’s been a while since Pansy and I have been in the same safe house together. In fact, it’s been a while since I’ve even seen her. Must be over a month by now. I rub her back, somewhat awkwardly, as I take in the rest of the room. Theodore Nott sits in the back beside Goyle and Blaise makes his way over to them. The rest of the people in the room are only people I’ve run into a few times and I only know a handful of their names. They’re higher up. At the place that my family used to be before that night in the Astronomy Tower. I imagine they’re just passing through. Maybe just here to pass a quick word of order to Yaxley. The higher-ups don’t stay in run-down places like this.

“Did you hear about Astoria?” Pansy asks, wiping her face against my shoulder.

“Yeah,” I mumble. “I’m sorry about that,” I say. Pansy nods again, tears running down her face.

“She was a good friend in the end. We got very close,” Pansy says, her voice trailing off at the end.

“Why don’t you go lie down and we can talk a little later,” I say, unravelling her arms from around my back.

“Okay,” she says making her way down the corridor to one of the room. I imagine the room I stayed in last night has already been claimed by someone new. I sigh moving over towards Blaise and Nott. Nott greets me slightly and I nod at him in acknowledgement before Yaxley pushes past Goyle to stand in front of Blaise and me.

“What happened out in the woods?” he questions, his eyes narrowing in close on me. Blaise steps forward a little.

“Nothing,” he starts nonchalantly. “There wasn’t anyone out there,” he adds. Yaxley shifts his eyes to Blaise for a moment with a wickedly intense stare before moving his attention back to me, waiting. Blaise turns to me.

“Empty, like he said,” I say and Yaxley weights this up for a moment before making his way through the crowded kitchen and out the back door.

“God, that guy is a fucking nightmare,” Blaise laughs, lightening up the tension in the air. He eyes me curiously when Nott and Goyle aren’t looking.

“Come on Malfoy,” Blaise says, throwing his arm over my shoulder. “Let’s go see if these guys haven’t eaten everything in the place,” he says pulling me towards the presses with him.

“Don’t count on it,” Goyle calls as we push through the crowd. The noise in this kitchen is starting to give me a thumping headache.

As we get to the presses Blaise grabs two protein bars from the back and shoves them into his coat away from a few prying eyes that seemed to have missed them amongst the empty wrappers and cardboard boxes.

“Come on,” Blaise whispers as he moves down the hallway towards the rooms. He listens at each door to see which are free and eventually finds a free one at the very end. He pulls the door open and we both slip in, locking it behind us.

“Why are you being weird?” I ask once we’re in the room. It turns out to be the bathroom. Blaise hands me one of the protein bars as he slips up onto the sink countertop and stares down at me.

“Do you remember the summer of second year?” He asks, his voice low and distant.

“Vaguely, why?” I ask, unsure of where this conversation is going and why it needs to happen in a cramped bathroom that has been recently used. And used _well_ for that matter. I try not to think about that as I take a bit out of the only food I’ve had in about 24 hours.

“Do you remember you came out to my grandparent's house in Norwich for a weekend?”

“Kind of, I remember flying out over the English channel,” I admit. Blaise smiles at this.

“Do you remember what you told me back then?” he asks with a questioning look. I blush a little, nervous all of a sudden.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he laughs.

Back in the summer of second year I had gone to stay with Blaise for a little while because my father had been beating my mother so badly that I couldn’t take being in the house anymore. My mother didn’t say anything when I cried in her face and asked her to do something. She just sat there drinking peppermint tea in a small, slightly cracked cup that was as small and fragile as she was. She looked through me and my questions as if I had been nothing more than a pane of glass. That weekend I had told Blaise all about it and immediately regretted telling him once I got back to the Manor. It was not that he ever used it against me or told anyone it was just that I didn’t want to tell him. It was a moment of weakness.

“Yeah, that was a mistake really. I didn’t really trust you back then,” I admit sheepishly. Blaise smiles in return.

“My point exactly,” he exclaims. “You didn’t trust me back then but you still told me what was happening,” Blaise says and I crease my eyebrows together in confusion.

“Blaise, what the hell are you getting at?” I say, tired of the entire conversation already. My headache thumping behind my eyes.

“Think of what you can tell me now when you do trust me?” he says. I glance over at him.

“You do trust me now, right?” Blaise asks, unsure.

“Yeah man, you know that. What are you getting at?” I say becoming really uncomfortable with how emotional this conversation is feeling.

“You can trust me, Malfoy,” Blaise says again, more serious this time.

“Trust you with what?” I ask, a little frustrated.

“With what you saw in the woods?” he says finally and my heart thumps heavy in my chest. A big weight pulls down towards my stomach.

“I saw your face when you came out around the tree. You weren’t taking a piss, were you?” Blaise asks, kicking his legs back against the counter.

“You don’t understand,” I say in a panic. Blaise slides down from the counter, throwing the empty bar wrapper in the trash and stares at me.

“I put us back here in this house,” I admit. “I put us back here to spend who knows how long waiting on more useless orders and rationing up food that wouldn’t even fully feed one person. I put us back here in this fucking hell because I made a choice, Blaise.”

“It’s alright man-

“It could have been over right there and then in that fucking forest, but I just couldn’t do it. Something in me just couldn’t do it. I didn’t even want to after the moment had passed,” I admit in a rant of panic and emotion pumping in my head.

“Malfoy _what happened_?” Blaise asks more calmly this time, assessing the risk that is me. Whether or not I’m going to explode. I can tell by his expression that he regrets bringing it up now. If I am ever anything it is calm and collected. But right now, I can't seem to quell this anxiety that has built up in my chest over the last year. The dam that is holding back this flood is starting to show cracks. It was the anxiety of running into her and the anxiety of praying that I don’t each and every morning when I wake up. But my façade had started to show cracks today because today had been the day like I knew would inevitably come regardless of my praying.

“She was there. In the forest. _Granger_. It was like she appeared out of nowhere and there was nothing I could do to make it go away if that makes sense. I walked a little up the hill when you were taking a piss and I accidentally walked into her wards. Potter and Weasel were up on the top of the hill in the tent. Potter was there. I saw him,” I admit.

Blaise's face goes an almost ghostly pale colour. I move towards the sink and turn on the tap, splashing a handful of water over my face. It feels like iced daggers piercing into each and every pore on my face. I pull away and wipe a hand over my face.

“Fuck, man.”

“Yeah,” I say, wiping my face again.

“He was right there and I couldn’t do anything about it. I fucked us both over. I fucked you over,” I admit. Blaise grabs my shoulder.

“I get it man, Okay? I get why you did it. I can’t say I would have done the same thing but I get why you did it,” Blaise says reassuringly.

I want to laugh all of a sudden. To laugh at the situation we’re in. If this was back in Hogwarts I would have rather died than admitted something to Blaise. But things are different now. In this war, if you don’t get shit off of your chest it has a sickly humorous way of coming back at you.

“It could have been over with Blaise. This entire war. He was right there in front of me,” I say, hunching over. The pain in my chest is almost unbearable now. It just building and building and soon, very soon I feel as if I might explode.

“Yeah but so was she. You know what they would have done to her, Malfoy. They would have extracted every bit of information from both her and the Weasley and then disposed of them. I get why you did it, okay? It’s okay,” Blaise says, with a hand on my back as I slide down to my knees in front of the sink.

“Look I don’t want to be stuck in these fucking safe houses as much as you but if it means you’re okay then we’ll just have to tough it out and wait,” Blaise explains. I smile a little at this sentiment.

But what are we waiting for, really? Just for someone else to eventually find Potter and her. To prolong the inevitable. To prolong her death.

“What did you say to her?” Blaise asks suddenly.

“I told her to go North. Up to Edinborough. The last safe house we were in I heard Yaxley say it was empty up there and they were pulling out their Death Eaters to better lockdown London,” I admit.

“Smart,” Blaise comments. I pull myself back up to my feet and lean over the sink. Feeling a sudden quell of nausea.

“She’ll be okay, Malfoy. She’s smart. Smarter than both of us combined,” he assures me.

“Speak for yourself,” I chuckle a little.

“Don’t be big-headed. She was definitely the smartest in the year. Even if she was the most annoying,” Blaise jokes. I smile a little.

“So you want to maybe talk about her now?” Blaise asks and I notice a sneaky smile on his face.

“Fuck off,” I laugh.

“Come on, Malfoy! We just had a nice touching moment. We were sharing,” Blaise jokes, pushing my shoulder.

“Please don’t call it that,” I sigh, laughing deeply.

“I’m just fucking with you. I know enough now,” Blaise explains.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I know enough about it from what you’ve just told me. I guess I thought it was something funny to slag you about because I didn’t really think it was that serious. But I know now you cared about her a hell of a lot if you did what you did today,” Blaise clarifies.

“I used too, a long time ago,” I admit, sullenly.

“Not anymore?” he asks, curious.

“I think it’s different now,” I admit. “I didn’t really know her when I saw her. She looked like she didn’t know me either. We’re different now,” I explain.

“Everybody is different now, Malfoy. That’s just in the _small print_ of war. Everybody changes,” Blaise says matter of fact.

“It’s stupid to even talk about. I will never see that girl again. Until one of us is dead and buried, I imagine,” I say. Blaise pats me on the shoulder.

“Then don’t dwell on today, man. Let’s go get some rest. It’s getting late,” Blaise says reaching for the door handle. I nod and stare at myself in the mirror one last time before leaving the room with Blaise.

* * *

We hunker down in one of the rooms with Goyle and Nott. Blaise and I take the floor while the two of them take the bed. Long after the noises in the kitchen come to a stop I find myself awake, staring at the fluorescent street light flooding in from the mesh curtains above the bed. It casts a long glare off the wall, keeping me awake. Or perhaps it’s not even the light that keeps me awake. Later I would realise it was the feeling of panic of something to come. Although at the time I didn’t realise how bad it would be.

Blaise turns over in his sleep and I envy him. But quickly that envy dissipates as a huge bang goes off in the kitchen. Blaise, Nott and Goyle snap up, awake and alert. A habit we have formed in the war. I sit up as the sounds of boots comes down the hallway towards our room. I look at Blaise across the room but I can barely see his face. But I know he can see mine because it’s lit up against the street light. A wave of panic rushes through everyone and the heavy sound of boots get closer.

“We’ve been compromised,” Goyle whispers.

“Get your wands,” shouts Nott. I already have mine clutched tightly in my hand. I spot Blaises on top of the counter and reach up, throwing it back at him. He mutters a quiet panic. Suddenly the door flies open and Yaxley comes in, the light from the hallway barely escaping into the room around his large robust figure.

“Wakey, wakey, sunshine,” he calls, reaching down towards me.

“Get up!” he instructs. I stand up quickly, throwing my coat over myself. I leave my clothes on when I sleep, a habit also picked up from the war.

“What’s going on?” I ask as I give a quick look at Blaise over my shoulder. He nods before we leave the room. Yaxley shuts the door and I follow him down the hallway. The kitchen is empty and he soon leads me outside before pulling out his wand.

“Great news!” he says, his voice sounding almost excited if that were possible for him. I have never heard him speak above a grunt in the year that I’ve known him.

“Potter was found in the woods. They’re at the Manor now,” he says and before I have a second to register what that means I feel the earth fall away from my feet and that’s before we even apparate.

* * *

When we drop down I fall to my knees as they crumble beneath me like liquid jelly. Yaxley pulls me up by the scurf of my hood. I push away his hand as I right myself. He scowls down at me. Ahead of me, the Manor looms overhead with its long dark architectural features. My father’s grandfather had built the Manor himself. Which, in translation, meant that he had gotten someone else to do it and claimed the work as his own. Ever the Malfoy.

I have not been back in the house since last summer. I got put on groundwork after what happened and I wasn’t surprised and I didn’t even try and fight against it. Neither did my mother or father either. My father said it would teach me a lesson. I would have to earn my place back in the home after my downfall. After my father's several downfalls though there always seemed to be an excuse, someone else to blame for his mistakes. He never spent any time away from the Manor.

“Come on,” Yaxley calls over his shoulder as he enters the Manor.

I walk inside and that same anxiety I felt in the bathroom earlier with Blaise takes hold in my chest. Something is coming. Something very bad is coming. I reconstruct my face as Yaxley pushes open the door and my mother rushes into my arms. I feel her hair wrap over my face and the sweet smell of peppermint lingers around her.

“Draco,” she whispers into my shoulder. I wrap my arms around her and squeeze tightly. It’s been so long since I’ve seen her. I stare over her shoulder into the eyes of my father. Big, gleaming eyes.

“Draco,” he calls, as he extends his hand out to me. My mother immediately releases her grip of me at the sound of my father’s voice. I move as if muscle memory has taken over and stride across the room to him. Bellatrix is there too and a momentary flash of something appears in my mind,- a memory- but I push it away. I can’t think of that right now.

My father pulls my head close to his and whisper very close to my face, his breath spitting over me as he rushes.

“Great news, son. We’ve caught Potter,” he says hurriedly looking over his shoulder.

“Shall we not forget who really caught Potter?” Greyback calls and I notice him and a few others standing in the corner beside Bellatrix. They had been following us in the woods. God damn it, Granger. She wasn’t fast enough. How could they have caught them?

My father demands my attention again and I look deep into his pleading, eager eyes.

“Bring in the boy!” Bellatrix calls, her voice high and screechy. I flinch against the sound.

I hear the doors tumble open behind me, their weight sounding loud as they scrap open along the ground. My father grabs my neck and twists me around as a boy is led into the room by another Death Eater. He pushes him roughly to his knees and for a second I’m overcome with relief because I don’t recognise him at first. His face is large and swollen in some areas. One of his eyes is half shut. My father pushes me down to my knees in front of him so we’re eye to eye and at that moment there's no mistaking it. It is Potter.

“What’s wrong with his face?”

“Something he caught in the woods,” Greyback calls over towards us.

I examine his face slowly as Potter stares back at me with a stoic expression. But there's hate in his eyes. I can see it.

“Is it the Potter boy? Look closely son,” my father urges me with a slight knee in the back.

“I can’t be sure,” I say as I feel my fathers legs push more into my back as he leans eagerly over me.

“Draco,” he whispers, low beside my ear. “If we’re the ones to hand over Potter to the Dark Lord then this will all be forgotten. You can come home again and we can be a family,” my fathers low, pleading voice assaults me. Potter searches my eyes as I search his. I feel everyone's eyes on me then. My mothers, somewhat crying, pleading eyes in the corner followed by Bellatrix’s large, watchful ones. They’re all waiting. Everyone in this room is waiting for me to speak.

“I can’t be sure,” I say again, trying to keep my voice even. My father grabs my neck and yanks me back up to my feet.

“Bring him down to the cellar,” my father shouts at me as he pushes me forward. I grab Potter arm and pull him up. He whips his arm away from me and we share a moment before I push him forward out the door. Yaxley follows us out the door but stops in the doorway to talk to Bellatrix. I push Potter ahead as we descend the stairs. When we get to the bottom of the cellar I notice Weasley behind the iron bars.

“Where’s Granger?” I call before I can stop myself.

“Malfoy?” Weasley calls back. “Had a feeling you’d show up here,” he curses.

“Where’s Hermione?” Potter asks this time. I open the door and push him inside.

“They just took her,” the weasel tells Potter. _What? _When? I didn’t see them. I close the door and lock it.

“I swear Harry I held on to her as long as I could but they broke my finger,” the weasel says. I look down as he lifts up his hand to show Potter. One of his fingers is bent back at an awkward angle. I grimace.

As if the heavens have opened a scream rips through the entire Manor and a cold burst shoots up my back. The Weasel falls to the floor as he stares up at the roof in astonishment. I hear Yaxley coming down the stairs, his large boots hitting the ground with heavy thumps.

“It’s Hermione,” the weasel says, his voice barely more than a whisper. I look up as her screams echo around the Manor.

I feel a hand grab the front of my robes as Potter reaches out between the iron bars. He pulls me as hard as he can towards the bars and I burst my lip against them. Releasing a little bit of his grip I hold my busted mouth as Potters eyes turn venomous.

“Listen to me here you _bastard_. That is my _best friend_ up there. I don’t know why but she had some stupid, sick and twisted idea that you might not be the dickhead waster you’ve been for the last 8 years. She said there was some good in you. I never believed it and I doubt Ron did either but she did. She said that you cared about her. If there is a shred of truth there then you do something. Do you hear me?” he says pulling harder on my chest till my face is pressed tightly against the iron bars.

“Because if she dies here it’s on you Malfoy. And I will hold you accountable. I will come for you! Do you hear me you bastard?” Potter shouts, his eyes ablaze in resolve. I grab his arm and try to pry it off me but his grip is locked in tight. Yaxley comes into the room then and rips me away from Potter. The front of my shirt rips away, staying in Potter’s death grip.

“Make a choice,” Potter says as another scream rips through the Manor. His eyes stay on mine as I practically fall back up the cellar stairs. The closer we get to the room the louder Grangers voice seems to get. She screaming and gurgling and what sounds like a few coughs escape her mouth. The sounds send my stomach into knots and twist.

When I walk around the corner my body goes into this silent resolve when I see her. A complete washing away of all emotion hits me. I look over at her lying on the floor as Bellatrix leans over her, carving something into her arm. The feeling I got earlier hits me, the flash of something and this time I see it more clearly. Everything looks the same and I can’t unsee it. It looks the exact same way that I saw it in her glimpse of the future. Granger is sitting the same way and my aunt is leaning over her with the same exuberant and terrifying expression. It’s the exact same.

My father leans eagerly over Bellatrix’s shoulder as he watches on but my mother stands close to the hearth, with her arms extended outwards towards the fire. Her hands are red and look uncomfortable that close to the heat. But she seems to be mentally checked out. She’s not here in this room at all. She’s somewhere far away and I hope that wherever it is, that it’s better than here.

Time moves slowly as the understanding of what needs to be done dawns on me. Yaxley is close to me so I take a few steps ahead of him so that I’m out of immediate reach. My father turns and looks at me eagerly before his face falls a little as he takes in mine. Granger’s head lulls to the side as she looks at me but her eyes are completely glazed over. If this is correct and what I saw in her future are correct then it’s not long before the house-elf comes out and pulls her lifeless body away.

Maybe Dumbledore was right all along. That this choice was always destined to follow me wherever I went. As long as she lives I was going to have to make it at some point. But I see now that it was never meant to be on the Astronomy tower. I was always going to face this choice right here. In my own home. In front of my family. How ironic? The place where I learnt to be the person I was for most of my life is the place where I was going to leave it all behind. 

I take a breath and hear it loudly in my ears as Granger’s screams finally come to a halt. I pull out my wand and it begins. I take Yaxley down first and he goes flying back through the doors. I shut them with a flick of my wands as I turn around and eye my father and Bellatrix. They’re only starting to become aware of what’s happening.

I hold up my wand and Bellatrix turns with a slight smile on her face. My father has gone silent. A look of complete and utter confusion on his face.

“What’s this Draco?” Bellatrix asks.

“Going to kill me to save the Mudblood?” she asks in a downgrading tone. I raise my wand as she takes her out.

“Draco,” my father calls, raising his hands in defence.

“Son, you’re making a mistake,” he says in the most sincere tone I’ve ever heard him speak in.

“Give it up Lucius. Look at the pathetic son you’ve raised. And now he’s turned on you for what? Some worthless Mudblood! Such a waste,” Bellatrix shouts. She raises her wand and flicks it at me.

“Avada Kedvra!”

I fall to the left as the curse whizzes past my ear, feeling as if it’s burnt my flesh. I breathe deeply as the room takes in what just happened. Bellatrix looks shocked that it missed me and refixes herself.

“Avada Kedvra!” a voice calls as a green light zips across the room and burst into Bellatrix’s chest. She falls to the ground, lifeless. My mother drops her wand as my father falls to the floor, staring at Bellatrix.

I hear the sound of banging on the door outside and I’m sure by how loud it is that it must be Yaxley. I scramble up off my feet and run over towards Granger. I kick both my father and Bellatrix’s wand away as hard as I can. I pick up Granger as gently as I can and I’m momentarily caught up in how lifeless and light she feels. I rest her body over my shoulder as I stare down at my father.

“Son,” he says, his mouth agape. He scrambles to his feet and I move back towards my mother, near the hearth.

“We can still come back from this, okay? Just put the girl down. We can still do this together. As a _family_,” he says hurriedly, his hands extended in a plea.

“You are no family of mine,” I say sternly as I place my hand on my mother's shoulder. My father looks between my mother and me but her back is still to him. A slight understanding crosses his face.

“Draco, please!” he begs. A final plea.

“I’ve made my choice,” I say, my tone final.

The door bursts open as Yaxley takes in the room. I take one look as we apparate, one hand holding Granger and my other placed firmly on my mothers’ shoulder. The three of us whiz away and the Manor is gone. My father is gone.

* * *

When we drop to the ground I fall forward and Granger flies ahead. My mother falls behind me, before sitting upright and staring around at her surrounds.

“Where are we?” she asks, staring out at the coastline illuminated by the moon overhead. I hadn’t meant to but in the last seconds before apparating, I had thought of the summer I had spent at Blaise’s grandparent's house and I guess that’s where we ended up.

I pick up Granger’s body from the ground and rest my ear next to her chest and I hear the faintest sound of a heartbeat and a sense of relief washes over me.

“Norwich, I think,” I say to my mother who fuses with the end of her cardigan.

“I should go back, Draco. Your father-

“Beat you for your entire marriage. I’m not leaving you there anymore,” I say grabbing her wand from her hand.

“Now get up,” I say, my patience wearing thin. My mother nods her head reluctantly as she stands. I take Granger into the house through the back patio door that was left open. I leave my mother fussing at the kitchen table, nervously looking around a shabby little cottage kitchen.

I take Granger to the back bedroom and lay her down on the bed, brushing her hair out of her eyes. I take a cloth from the en suite and wash down the blood from her arms and face and dap it a little at the blood on my own face, still dripping from my busted lip.

When the blood is cleared from her arm I notice the markings, fresh and new, embedded deep into the soft skin of her forearm. _Mudblood_. Forever marked by my own family. I pull down her sleeve and the movement causes her eyes to flutter open. She opens them fully after a second and searches around the room in a half-crazed, panic.

“Where am I? Where is-

“Ssh, Granger. It’s okay, relax,” I say, pushing her back down when she tries to sit up.

“Malfoy?” she asks, deeply confused. She puts her hand up to my face and touches my cheek. Her fingers are icy cold so I take her hand and put it under the covers for warmth.

“What’s going on? Where am I?”

“You’re safe now. You can sleep,” I assure her. But she persists and takes her arm back out and grabs my own arm with more force than I thought she was capable in her present state.

“Malfoy! Where am I? Where are Harry and Ron?” She questions angrily.

“You’re somewhere safe. Potter and Weasel are at the Manor. I got you out,” I explain. Her eyes search my face with shock.

“You left them!” She screams, her voice causing me to shiver.

“I had to get you out of there. Bellatrix was about to kill you, Granger. Don’t you understand that?” I say, trying to keep my anger quelled.

“I would have rather died with my friends then abandon them!” she shouts and I’m sure now that my mother can hear our entire conversation.

“Potter said to get you. He told me himself!” I argue back.

“I can’t believe you’ve done this!”

“I can’t believe you’re this ungrateful!” I shout back, unable to keep the anger back.

“I will never forgive you for this,” she says suddenly, very quietly with such severe eyes that they pierce mine like a needle.

“Fine! You don’t have too,” I shout, standing up from the bed. I feel her eyes burn into the back of my head as I leave the room and slam the door much harder than needed.

I walk back into the kitchen and my mother is in the same spot twiddling her thumps nervously as she looks around the room. Her eyes glazed over.

“Draco?” she calls as she takes in my expression. I can’t stand it anymore. In a split second, I am angrier than I’ve ever been in my entire. All the pressure I felt for the last year waiting and waiting in safe houses with Blaise and just barely scraping by seems to come bursting forth and I can’t stop myself once it starts. The flood is finally coming.

My mother gaps in horror as I tear apart the entire adjoining sitting room. Ripping pictures down from walls and throwing them as hard as I can against the opposite wall. I kick through the television and pick it up, sending it across the room, leaving a giant dent in the wall. I can hear the sound of someone screaming in the background but I can’t make myself stop. I can’t stop until the anger is gone because I can’t live with it anymore. I can’t breathe from one second of the day to another. I’m always gasping for air, never getting enough and I just want it to stop. I just want to be free of this pain. Maybe it would have been better if Bellatrix didn’t miss me with that curse.

I feel the weight of someone on my back and when I turn around in a rage I come face to face with my mother's terrified expression. I can see mine mirrored in her eyes as she cups my face.

“Draco,” she says so softly it sounds like music. “It’s _okay_,” she says and I can feel my knees unlock and I drift down to a slump on the ground. My mother drops down with me, still cradling my face, brushing over my face with her warm hands.

“It’s _okay_,” she keeps repeating as she brushes back my hair from my face. The anger dissipates with each warm hand against me. When we both reach the ground I lean my head forward into her chest and she wraps her arms around me. She feels so small trying to hold me together.

“It’s _okay_,” she says again, holding my head in her arms. “Mommy’s here now,” she whispers. That single, innocent whisper of reassurance crumbles in my chest and a flood comes pouring out of my eyes.

I cry for the first time in ten years.


	17. Ajar window

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya Guys!  
Since the coronavirus is causing a global shut down I have more time for writing now. Now I didn't exactly get the response for the last chapter like I was expecting and it's kind of sad so I hope you enjoy this chapter a little more.  
Please take the time to review and let me know your thoughts.  
Much love <3

**Draco’s Point of View**

When I wake up the light coming in the window is faint and for a second I look around the room, trying to find Blaise. But instead, my eyes land upon the three wands gathered on the nightstand and I remember what happened last night. My breath grows shallow and hoarse. I move off the bed and into the joining bathroom, splashing water over my face. The shock of the cold water shoots down my back and seemed to jolt me away like a knock to the head. And with that knock, last night comes flooding in, in full colour. I stop and catch myself, slowing my breath to listen to the sound from the room at my right. It’s silent. She’s not awake yet.

I look down at my hands and note the little cuts and scratches all over my right hand. Dried blood draws a line from my right thumb, meandering up to my forearm. I lean my arm under the tap and wash away the blood with soap. I turn off the tap with a squeak from the faucet but after that noise the house is quiet. I listen for a moment but nothing seems to be stirring. Perhaps it is too early still and perhaps I am grateful for this stolen moment.

I throw my rob over my shoulders as I leave the room and stumble upon the kitchen, shivering as I enter. Before I notice my mother in an armchair she’s pulled up to the patio window, I take in the mess that I left the sitting room in last night. I look at the shards of broken wood scattered all over the couches, the large dent in the left-hand side wall and the television in pieces beneath the mark. The room is littered with broken picture frames and the pictures are dotted around the floor. I look over towards my mother. She’s sleeping on the small armchair with the patio door slightly ajar which explains the cold.

I walk over and pull the patio door shut with a slight bang. She jolts awake and I move away towards the kitchen as she wakes up.

“Draco?” she calls.

“Yeah, it’s me,” I answer, unaware of how weak my voice sounds. My mother turns and looks up at the clock. I follow her eyes. It’s 6:15 am.

“Why are you up so early?” she asks, pushing the blanket away from her lap.

“Keep that on. It’s cold in here,” I say and she stops fussing and stares at me.

“Draco, what’s going on? Where are you going this early in the morning?”

“I have to go and get food,” I say, opening the presses. They’re full of old cans of food that are dangerously close to their expiry date. The fridge is full of rotten food and opening the door causes my stomach to churn.

“Why don’t you eat something before you go, dear?” my mother's soothing voice asks. The voice sends chills down my arms and for a moment the dizziness is so overwhelming. I grab the door of the fridge tightly as I close it, trying to regain some control.

“I’m fine,” I say but I haven’t eaten since yesterday. I’ve gone longer before I assure myself. Pull yourself together.

“Draco, you’re so pale,” she comments meekly.

“I’m always pale,” I retort. A small, almost indistinguishable laugh escapes her lips. I look at her and her eyes are so big, searching mine with concern, darting furiously from side to side as if the words that embody who I am are written there for her to read. When I look at her all I can see is last night. The soothing words she whispered into my hair while I cried on the floor. I can hear her words and feel her slow, shaky hands in my hair. A woman comforting me who has not comforted me like that in about as long as it’s been since I last cried. I don’t want to look at her. I turn away, ashamed.

“Draco?” she calls again but I head towards the door, shoving both my arms into the sleeve of my robes.

“What’s going to happen?” she asks when I reach the door.

“I’m going to go out and get something for us to eat,” I comment.

“No,” she says and I turn to look at her in confusion. She’s leaning forward from the chair in desperation and looking at her sometimes it's hard to imagine that she’s been the adult all these years. Maybe because she stopped acting like it a long time ago.

“What’s going to happen after?” she asks, her eyes pleading and hands fumbling together nervously.

“Maybe if we-

“Stay here, okay?” I say, cutting her off harshly. She leans back into the chair, bowing her head, scratching at her wrist repetitively.

“Don’t go looking in that room for your wand. I’m taking it with me,” I inform her. She bows her head lower.

“I’ll be back soon,” I say, shutting the door lightly behind me.

I exhale a deep sigh once I get outside and pull my robes tightly around me. It’s colder than it looks outside. The sun is just rising over the horizon of the English Channel. I look out towards the water for a moment, listening to the seagulls squawking loudly overhead. I head up the hill towards the little town I remember being there when I was younger, not looking over my shoulder towards the house once.

* * *

**Hermione’s point of view. **

I wake to the sound of mumbling in the kitchen followed by what I can only assume is the front door closing. I push up from the bed, slipping on the boots I left at the foot of the bed. Agony rips up my arm as I push myself away from the bed. I grab at it fiercely, clasping my arm around my forearm, as if somehow squeezing it can stop the pain. When I pull my hand off my arm the pressure has caused the skin to go a shade paler. The colour comes back slower and I stare down at the words etched into my skin. I spot my jacket on the back of the chair and quickly throw it over my shoulders, slipping the arms through.

I look out the window in the corner of the room and there’s only a small section on the top that opens. I pull open the door to the bathroom and notice the light is on. I listen at the door on the other side. This bathroom must connect to both rooms but I’m unsure of who might be in the other room. I lean down onto my right knee, pulling out the key from the hole and stare through it. The bed comes into view but the sheets are pulled back leaving the bed empty. I look over to the left as far as the keyhole will allow me and I can just about see the corner of the door and it’s open. I slowly push open the door to find the room empty.

I gradually make my way to the door and shut it as soundlessly as I can so no sounds will carry down the hallway into the kitchen. I walk over to the bed and something in me causes me to lean down towards the pillow. A smell hits me and I know the smell. But I cut off the rest of my thoughts, shaking my head slightly. I move away and take a few deep breaths. I have to keep it together. I have to stay calm and collected. I have to be the person I am expected to be. The boys are waiting for me. I need to stay together.

As quietly as I can manage, I shift through the room, pulling open presses and wardrobes but what I find doesn’t attribute to anything that makes sense. The clothes in the wardrobe aren’t clothes for anyone who currently stays in this house. They look as if they belong to a much older couple. The house smells that way as well. I find nothing in the draws in the room and nothing either in the draws in the bathroom. This house is lived in that much is sure but not lived in enough. This is not someones _home_. That much is obvious. It is missing too much of everyday necessities. There is toothpaste in the bathroom but no toothbrushes. There is an old hairdryer but no hairbrushes. The medicine cabinet contains a few different types of pain killers but no prescriptions, nothing long term. Maybe the couple fled and grabbed what they needed or maybe we’re not the first people to be here. But at the same time, the house doesn’t look ransacked. Perhaps it’s a summer home.

I search each press and wardrobe a second time, this time a lot less quiet, more panicked. I can’t help myself. The thing I’m looking for is nowhere to be found. My wand. Harry had said from day one to never leave it out of our sights. Our wand is our lifeline and without it, we are completely naked. I feel that way now. As if the air is biting away at my naked flesh. I don’t remember having it on me last night. I don’t remember much of last night. I just remember a lot of shouting before sleep inevitably took me. I couldn’t help it. I shall pay for that weakness now.

The window in this room is much larger and the pane opens out fully onto the back garden. I walk over to it and push the window open as far as it will go. It’s small but I can fit out through it. I look around the room, feeling completely lost and hopeless. I have nothing but the clothes on my back. How far can I get in that cold without my wand or all the items I had in my bag. Without even a tent for shelter amongst the elements. As if asking that question I hear a noise from the kitchen. A cough and what sounds like a readjustment on a chair. Someone is out there. Someone is still in this house. I wasn’t left completely alone. Or maybe I wasn’t left unguarded.

I close the window in, not locking it as I open the bedroom door and lean my head out quietly. I listen but I don’t hear any more obvious sounds. I try to move as quietly as I can down the hallway but the floorboards squeak beneath my feet and I curse myself each step for being in this unfamiliar house. When I reach the kitchen, I look around and take in the room. The kitchen is small and dingy with presses open here and there. I look over towards the sitting room and its in shambles. Television smashed in the corner and bits of broken wood splashed all over the couch that faces where the television once was, sitting on what used to be a stand for it. But now looks like someone put their foot right through the wooden stand.

Someone clears their throat and my eyes immediately snap to them sitting on an armchair by the patio door. It’s Narcissa Malfoy and all my comprehensions and understandings of this house go flying out the window. Shock wraps around my body and causes my intestines to squeeze and clench until a roll of nausea washes over me. I stumble back, banging into a shelf that has been pulled open, loudly shutting it as I bang into the kitchen counter. Narcissa looks me over once before turning her attention back to the patio door. I stand dumbfounded completely unsure what to make of the situation.

I scan the room as quickly as I can trying to see if I can locate my wand. But it’s hard to see anything in the sitting room amongst what’s left of it. I turn around, searching quickly through the presses trying to desperately find it before Narcissa stands up from the chair and does something to really kick start this nightmare.

“It’s not here,” she comments with a snarl at the end of her tone.

“Hmm,” I say in an awkward slip of the tongue.

“Your wand!” she implies. I turn around and meet her eyes which are turned downwards towards me.

“Draco has it,” she adds with implied annoyance gesturing towards the front door.

“Where is he?” I ask, unsure that this conversation is happening. I have never seen this woman for more than a few moments each year at Kings Cross and even then, it was only from a deliberate distance. To see her now up close feels surreal. Like being close to fire.

“He went out,” she comments shrilly.

“Out? What do you mean, out?” I ask, panicked. Where did he go this early in the morning? Where did he think he was going with my wand?

“Why don’t you tell me where he went?” she asks, leaning up from the chair with a sardonic smile.

“How the fuck should I know?” I shout, unable to keep my anger quelled. Who is this woman to talk to me like this? When I’m the one whose woken up in this house without any idea of why I’m even here to begin with.

“Well, you’re the reason I’m stuck out here? You’re the reason my son risked his own life to get you away from my own house. You’re the reason everything has gone to shit. And for what?” she laughs menacingly.

“For _you?_” she says eyeing me up and down.

“I don’t know what you did or said to my son to make him do this-

“I didn’t say anything to _your_ son, okay? _Your_ son made his own god damn choice like he always does. He does whatever he wants without regard for anyone else’s wishes. He’s always been like that. You’re his mother so that is on _you_! Not me. I didn’t raise him and from what I hear you barely did either,” I shout, almost screaming at the end.

“How _dare_ you speak to me like that,” Narcissa shouts, standing from the chair and throwing the blanket she had wrapped around her on the chair as she steps away from it.

“How dare you act like this when you’re the reason for all of this mess!”

“I didn’t ask him to do anything. I never asked him to get me out of there. I was willing to die for Harry, okay! I didn’t ask for any of this. So, maybe blame your son, not me!” I bellow back at her. She looks aghast again as she places a hand at her heart.

“Do you realise what you’ve done? What you’ve caused?” she asks, more quietly this time, clutching at the front of her cardigan.

“I didn’t cause this! Aren’t you listening to a word I’m saying?”

“My son will be marked a _traitor_ because of _you_. Because of all of this. They will hunt him down and kill him because of you!” she screams at me so loud that it causes my mouth to shut with an audible smack. 

“I had to – “she starts but trails off, falling back into the chair slowly, her eyes completely glazed over. I wait for her to speak but she seems to slip away into a sort of doll-like trance, barely blinking. I stare, unsure of what to do.

“Narcissa?” I call. Her eyes turn to mine, searching.

“Such a waste,” she murmurs in response, staring at me.

“Don’t worry, once I get my wand I’m out of here,” I assure her and she mumbles inaudibly to herself for a while. I sigh, staring around the room again as I hear the sound of the door open. I look over at Narcissa and notice tears are silently falling down her face. She looks much older than I’m sure her actual age is. I turn away and watch as Malfoy makes his way back into the house carrying a bag that he awkwardly tries to drop down on a broken table. He pulls his robe off briefly before noticing me standing half in the kitchen, halfback in the hallway. I stare back at him and something in my face causes him to turn and look at his mother.

“What happened?” he asks, turning back to me. I roll my eyes and move away from the kitchen counter.

“I want my wand, Malfoy,” I say, unable to leave behind the tone I used with Narcissa. He sighs hanging up his coat on the half tipped over coat hanger. He runs a hand through his hair and the action causes me to pause, stunned almost. I haven’t seen that mannerism in a very long time. It’s almost characteristically boyish; of a different era. When we were both different people. He notices my expression and furrows his brows at me.

“We should eat first,” he expresses, picking at the plastic bag.

“Malfoy, I don’t think you heard me? I want my wand. I’m not sitting here to play house with you and your mother. That’s something that just isn’t going to happen, okay? Now give me my wand,” I bark, unable to comprehend what’s going through his mind right now.

“Granger,” he sighs.

“Ungrateful,” Narcissa murmurs from the corner. I glare at her.

“Mother, can you stay out of this please?” Malfoy barks at her and she turns her attention back out to the patio window again.

“Come on,” he says and he walks over to me, putting his arm on my shoulder.

“I’m not going anywhere with you!” I exclaim, shoving his hand off me.

“Can you stop being such a brat?” he snarls at me.

“My wand, Malfoy! I’m serious,” I say, extending my palm out to him.

“Okay, let’s go!” He says, grabbing my shoulders and pushing me down the hallway. I push back the entire way but he’s a lot stronger than me. I look over his shoulder before we enter the bedroom he slept in last night and see his mother’s watchful eyes following us. Malfoy pushes me in the door and I fall forward onto the bed. He slams the door closed behind us.

“If it’s okay Granger I would prefer not to rip each other apart in front of my mother,” Malfoy starts.

“What does it matter? She hates me anyway,” I comment, righting myself up on the bed. I fix my hair and suddenly find myself fuming again. I can’t help it. It’s overwhelming. I am angrier at that moment than I’ve been in a long time. My blood feels searing hot and I clench my fists together so tightly to the point where my nails dig deep into my palms.

“Granger,” Malfoy says cautiously. “Calm down,” he shifts awkwardly towards me. “Okay?”

I glare up at him as I squeeze harder into my palms turning my knuckles white. I can barely feel the pain of my nails piercing my skin. I am angry for a multitude of reason. I am angry because of this war and this stupid house that smells of old people. I am angry for the girl I lost to this war and the people we have lost so far. I am especially angry at him for everything he’s done and everything he didn’t do. I am angry at Narcissa for speaking to me as if I was shit on her shoe. I am angry because I am angry. The old Hermione was so empathetic, so understanding. Anger is my first emotion now, almost always. It is the first one that comes out whenever anything happens. In this entire last year, I have felt only two things. Angry and tired. I want to be how I was before. I just want to go back to that life where I thought before I spoke.

“Why are you so angry?” he asks then, unknowingly making it worse. I stand up in a burst of fury and with my balled fist I push hard against his shoulders. He stumbles back, losing his footing and falling into the door, sliding down to the ground. The bang echoes through the house and I hear Narcissa in the other room.

“Draco!” she screams. Footsteps sound in the hallway.

“It’s fine!” Malfoy shouts back but I can tell the fall winded him. He pushes back up to his knees. “Go back to the kitchen,” he calls to his mother and I hear nothing for a moment until eventually, she heads back to the kitchen.

“Better now?” Malfoy asks when he stands back up, brushing off the bottom of his pants. He runs his hand through his hair again as he catches my eye, righting himself properly. I look away awkwardly. I hadn’t meant to push him that hard. But maybe I had. I think just before my fists made contact with his shoulders I lost a little more control and this rush of strength just came tumbling out of me. I bow my head a little ashamed. When did I become the kind of person to hurt another? To actively want to hurt another? I marvel over how different I am now. I try not to get angry about that but it’s futile.

“I don’t want to fight with you,” I say, meekly.

“Are you sure? Because it seems like you do?” Malfoy retorts.

“What did you expect Malfoy? That I was going to be overjoyed to be here?” I ask, incredulously.

“I thought you’d be a little grateful. I did save your life?” he says, shallowly, leaning against the wardrobe door.

“I understand what you did. Let’s cut the bullshit and speak plainly, okay?”

“Okay?” he replies, confused.

“You felt guilty and you saved me. That’s what happened let's not pretend it was anything different. You wanted a way out and you saw this as an opportunity to get out. You used me, Malfoy, and you want me to say thank you?” I ask, searching his eyes. He lets out a small chuckle, clutching at his ribs.

“Is that what you think happened?” he asks, smugly.

“That’s what happened, Malfoy,” I reply.

“What world do you live in, Granger? Huh? Where everything is this magical confrontation like it is in the books you swoon over? If I wanted to leave don’t you think I fucking would have already? There were countless opportunities where I could have left over the last year! I could have just disappeared if I wanted too. But I chose to just lay low, wait it out. Like everyone else I knew was doing and then disappear when it was over.”

I stare at him in confusion, uncomfortable with his brutal honesty.

“I was left with an ultimatum. Okay? I didn’t want you to fucking die, Granger. I didn’t want you to die in my own fucking house at the hands of my own family. I guess you could say because of the thing we had a year ago I felt obligated to.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit!” I scream, knowing full well that Narcissa can hear every word we’re saying to one another.

“You’re the most ungrateful bitc-

“It’s bullshit Malfoy. You expect me to believe that you did all of this for me?”

He runs his hands furiously threw his hair, scratching at his scalp. He pushes away from the wardrobe and paces around the room, uneasily.

“We’re not the same people we were in Hogwarts,” I say after a long pause.

“I know that. Don’t you think I know that?” he argues. I sigh deeply, exhausted from this conversation.

“I was happy to just lay low Granger. You were the one who showed up in that forest and got caught after I told you to run. What the hell were you doing?” he shouts, clenching his jaw.

“I tried to get away but they didn’t come from the direction you said they were coming from. They just came out of nowhere Malfoy!” I bark back.

“Why didn’t ye fight? Why didn’t you-

“I did fight Malfoy but there was so many of them and it was just too much. They had me first and Harry and Ron tried but they said they would kill me if Harry and Ron didn’t stop so we had too. You don’t think I did everything in my power to try and stop it. I fucking tried, Malfoy!”

“Okay, I understand but fuck, Granger!” Malfoy exclaims, throwing his fist into the wardrobe door.

“So you never planned on leaving the side you were on?” I ask, and he throws me that most murderous glare that I lean back away from him.

“What fucking side? Do you think I give a shit about either side? Do you think I give a shit about this entire war? No! I was just waiting for it to be over then I was going to be gone. Never heard from again!” he says, pacing. I look him up and down and it’s hard to hear what he says. No side. That seems to hit me in a strange place. I have never even thought about it. Thought about this war without sides to be on because I have always been on Harry side.

“There are always sides, Malfoy,” I explain.

“Yeah, and I could care less about either. This is not my war, Granger. I’m done with it now. I’ve opted out,” he explains.

“So, what you’re just going to stay in this house?”

“It’s what I should have done from the start. Just lay low. I’m sick of this,” he mumbles.

“Well, I’m sorry, Malfoy. But I’m not a coward,” I resort. He laughs sardonically.

“Is that what you see me as? Because I’m not willing to die for something I could care less about? Because I’m not this amazing martyr you are or Potter is? If you’re such a martyr why haven’t you left yet?” he asks, pointing to the window I left ajar.

“Get cold feet?” he asks with a raised eyebrow. I stumble back, taken back by his animosity. Hurt. Something in me comes up. A thought I try to push away.

“I get it, Granger. I get that we’re strangers now. Believe me, I feel it too but I haven’t forgotten,” he spits.

“I haven’t thought about it in a long time,” I admit, somewhat wanting to beat him too it.

“Me neither,” he answers quietly. “But I still remember you,” he adds. I look up to meet his eyes and I can see in them that he does remember me. The old me.

“I know how stubborn you can be, okay?”

“Malfoy I’m not stubborn,” I say, lying. He rolls his eyes and turns towards the window, swinging his arms back and forth. I watch them, noticing his hands are shaking a little.

“Do you want to know what the worst thing about you is though, Granger?” he muses. I stare at him in astonishment as he stares out the window.

“You never say what you _really_ want to say. You never say what you’re _really_ thinking. You keep that to yourself. Yet you expect honesty from everyone else,” he explains, turning back towards me at the end. I wring my hands together under his sudden scrutiny. The air is biting at my naked flesh again, exposed.

“Stop it,” I say, trying to keep the plea out of my voice. Anger rises again.

“And when someone gets close to what you’re trying to hide you get angry,” he adds. I wring my hands together tighter this time as the sweat starts on my palms. How can he still do this? After all this time, how can he still see through me?

“Stop it,” I say more harshly this time. He smirks at me.

“Don’t like it when I’m right, do you? You can dish out my faults but can’t admit your own?” he muses.

“Fuck you!” I exclaim. He smirks again, knowing he’s right and his arrogance makes me even angrier if that were possible.

“_Childish_,” he comments. The anger has risen to a point where I can feel the heat and tears behind my eyes but I refuse to cry in front of him.

“It’s okay, Granger. You know that right. To say it. To admit it,” he says, more sincere this time and his tone almost unleashes my tears. I throw my head back as if that’s somehow going to stop them.

“Stop pushing me,” I beg, this time unable to stop the plea in my voice.

“Why? You always push me! Call me all these things and belittle me so easily when you’re just the same as me. You’re not angry at me Granger. You’re angry at yourself because-

“Shut up! Shut up! _Shut up_!” I scream, standing from the bed and pushing against him again but this time his frame is structured strong. He doesn’t budge and I push again against his chest, thumping my fist. He grabs both my arms and pushes me back down to the bed, leaning his mouth down close to my ear.

“-because you don’t want to be in this war either.” He finally says and the tears come flooding down my face.

“That’s why you were willing to die for Potter. Because you wanted _out_. You’re angry I brought you back into this. Because you don’t want to be in this war anymore. Just as much as I don’t,” he finishes, leaning back and staring down at me. I can’t see anything past the tears. They stream down my face and into my open palms on my lap.

“So, here’s your ‘_excuse’_” he says, throwing my wand onto the bed beside me. I turn, staring down at it, getting glimpses of it between each tear fall.

“What? So surprised I’d give it to you? If you want to leave, Granger? Leave.”

“I hate you,” I say, wiping at my nose. He shrugs.

“Hate me, Granger. I don’t care. But at some point, just be honest with yourself. Life is a hell of a lot easier when you’re honest with yourself,” he says, turning towards the door. He leaves, shutting it quietly behind him.

Later when the light fades away and evening eventually comes, I pull the window closed against the cold and wrap the blankets around myself tightly and I think of Harry. I think of how much I have failed him.


	18. Stay with me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I imagine everyone is wondering what's going on. So many updates haha! I suppose we're all stuck inside so we may as well make the best of it. Enjoy this next chapter I know it's a little shorter than expected.  
Review and let me know your thoughts.  
Everybody stay safe!  
Much love<3

**Draco’s Point of view**

Later that night when the cold gets too much I go back into the house. I can’t put it off any longer. My mother sits in the same armchair and I squeeze in the patio door as her small, curious eyes watch me. I sigh, making my way into the kitchen. I stare into the plastic bag of food I got at the store. Some sort of panic caused me to buy four large bags of porridge, figuring it’ll last longer. I take out the peppermint tea, feeling in my pocket for the remaining money. It’s not much but it’s all I could find in the house last night. I throw the few muggle pounds down on the countertop and stare at them, counting the coins. £9.57. That’s it. That’s all the money the three of us have to survive who knows how long here. I grab it again, angrily and slide it back into the pocket of my robes and turn on the kettle.

My mother turns, eagerly towards me at the unfamiliar sounds.

“What’s that?” she asks, her voice low and curious.

“A kettle. I’ll make you the peppermint tea, okay?” I say. She doesn’t respond but I’m glad for the noise coming off the kettle. It cuts a little bit of the awkward tension in the air.

“How do you know how to do that?” she asks and I turn around, watching her looking at the appliances around the kitchen. I suppose I’m not too surprised. I didn’t know much about them until this past year when Blaise and I learned from squatting in so many different abandoned muggle residences.

“You pick it up,” I reply, turning back around as the kettle finishes.

“Hmm,” she muses. I put the teabag in the cup and pick up the kettle. I adjust myself so my mother can’t see how much my arm shakes under the weight. It would be a good idea to eat soon. I put the kettle back down with a thud and pick the cup up. Its warmth brings my awareness of how cold my fingers got while I was wasting time outside.

I hand my mother the tea and she thanks me with an awkward smile. I turn around and stare at the mess in the sitting room. I look over it once more before I flick my wand. The room whizzes for a moment before slowly everything rights it’s self-back together. The television comes back together before flying back across the room onto the stand. The pictures find their holders in their frames and sit neatly on the wall. The pieces of paint and wall chippings that lay beneath the hole in the wall fly back up and the mark is gone in a flash. When everything settles, I sit down on the couch and stare at my reflection in the television, noting my mother’s silhouette watching me from behind.

I hear her sip on the tea behind me and the noise is the only sound in the house. I’m not sure whether Granger is asleep of halfway across England at this point. Either or I don’t care. I clench my teeth together trying to push that thought away. I’ve spent the last few hours outside, pacing around in the cold and I know god damn well that she didn’t leave that bedroom.

“Draco?” my mother calls, pushing through my trail of thoughts.

“Yeah?” I say, somewhat reluctantly.

“Your father is going to be worried,” she implores and I bow my head forward into my lap. I can still hear Blaise in the back of my head telling me to sit up straight. That people were watching. That people used to look to me for how to act. Nobody is looking at me anymore. That much is sure.

“What do you suppose we do?” I ask, sardonically, pushing into my temples.

“Walk back into the manor like nothing happened? Did you see how quickly Bellatrix turned on me before I had even done anything?”

“Don’t talk about her like that,” she says roughly.

“Mother, she was willing to kill me the second I stepped out of line. I’m sorry for what you had to do, _okay_? I am. But do you think father is just going to welcome us back with open arms?” I ask, doubtfully. How can she not see this? How can she not see the situation we’re in?

“I think if we talk to him he’ll understand that it was a mistake. He’s a smart man, son. He’ll understand that it was just a momentary lapse of judgement. We can leave _her_ here and the two of us can go back?” she suggests. I scoff.

“Is that what it was? A momentary lapse in judgement?” I ask, turning to glare at her shocked face.

“People make mistakes, Draco.”

“_Yeah_. I know that. But I didn’t make one there,” I admit and my mother’s eyes enlarge.

“What are you saying?” she asks, her voice shaking. I stand up from the chair as my mother sinks lower into the armchair.

“Please wake up, mother! What world are you living in? You’re so brainwashed from years of listening to father that you can’t even make up your own mind about the world anymore? You’re just this outer shell that’s jam-packed with these rehearsed lines and ideologies. Do you not have your own opinions?”

My mother’s face turns completely blank, taking on a paler shade than my own.

“Son,-

“Please wake up, otherwise there will be nothing left of you when this war is over,” I say, glaring down at her. Her hands shake and she tightens her grip around the cup of tea, mulling over.

“Please don’t talk to me like this,” she pleas and a small part of me wants to stop but I can’t listen to it right now. I’m so angry at her for so many reasons that I can’t even begin to explain them. They’re inexplicable.

“I was always going to leave anyways, mother. I was always going to leave this behind me. I mean did you really want me to step into my father’s shoes? Did you really want that life for me?” I ask. Her eyes dart around nervously.

“It’s what you were raised to do?” she responds.

“Yeah, until I got old enough to understand that there was more than just this shit. You should have figured this out by now,” I explain.

“Is this because of _her_?” my mother asks, unbelieving. I sigh, running my hand through my hair again.

“Did you think I was just going to stand there and let her die? I’ve known that girl since I was eleven years old!” I exclaim.

“That’s not the reason,” my mother retorts loudly. I look towards the hallway and hope Granger isn’t listening in at the keyhole or anything.

“You don’t just do that for a girl you happen to know. She’s a _Mudblood_! What does she matter to you?” My mother barks back and I can feel the conversation getting heated now.

“I don’t want to talk about her,” I say, sighing again.

“Well, this is all because of her, Draco. It’s why we’re all here because of _that_ girl. I can’t just not talk about her. What _happened_? What did she do or say to you to make you act like this?”

I throw my hands out in front of myself in aggravation.

“She didn’t do or say anything to me, mother! I made my own choice okay! You’re not listening to me at all!” I scream, not caring anymore whether Granger is awake or not. Let her wake up. Let her come screaming out of the room about the noise or something stupid like that. Let’s all just lay it out on the table now.

“I just don’t understand why you would risk everything for that girl. A girl you hardly know,” she expresses, looking down into her palms.

“I know her better than I know you,” I say slowly, reserved. My mother’s face turns to stone almost, frozen in this shocked, hurt expression.

“I am your _mother_, Draco!” she retorts.

“Yeah, I know,” I say, not taking back my words. My mother nods her head slightly, mulling over the conversation. We sit in this stale silence with only the clock ticking overhead.

“So, she got in your head?” my mother eventually puts forward. I smirk a little feeling completely done with this whole conversation.

“I got you out too, or did you forget that?” I say, instead of answering her question.

“I didn’t ask for that,” she replies. I exhale loudly and turn around towards her on the chair, completely fed up with this conversation.

“So you wanted to stay there with him? After everything, he’s done to you? After everything, he’s put you through?” I shout.

“You don’t know him as I do?” she argues back. I stand up abruptly, pushing my hand deep into my pocket and picking out her wand. I throw it across the room at her and she flinches as it hits her chest.

“Then go home!” I yell across the room at her. She sinks lower into the chair, disappearing into the blankets she has bundled at her lap.

“That’s what you want, isn’t it? To go back?” I ask.

“I don’t see any other options,” she replies and I shake my head with a final nod towards her.

“Fine,” I snarl. I grab my wand out of my pocket and head down the hallway.

* * *

**Hermione’s Point of View**

A bang jolts me awake as Malfoy comes charging in the door. I sit up onto my elbows as he turns the light on overhead. It flashes so brightly that it blinds me for a moment. I put my hand up to block it as I try to blink my sight back into focus.

“Get up!” Malfoy shouts and I start to panic thinking the house has been compromised. I watch as he looks around the room frantically searching for something. I listen trying to distinguish any sounds that aren’t his but I don’t hear anything from the kitchen.

“Draco!” his mother shouts suddenly. He stops for a moment and turns towards the sound of her voice before turning back towards me. He picks up my coat on the chair and throws it at me.

“Put this on,” he orders. I stare at him for a moment before he glares at me and I shove my arms into the coat, leaning out of the bed. He comes around and pulls the pillows I was just lying on up from the bed. He grabs my wand that was hidden beneath them.

“Hey!” I call as he shoves it into his pocket.

“Put on your boots!” he orders. I frown back at him as I shove my feet into my boots and stand up, trying to steady my head. My body still feels half asleep, half-dazed from not eating in so long.

“Malfoy, what’s going?” I ask as he takes my arm and pulls me out of the room and down the hallway.

“What are you doing?” Narcissa asks when we come into the kitchen. I turn towards where she’s still sitting, wrapped up in blankets by the door. But now the blankets are falling off the edge of the chair like she means to stand up. I turn in confusion and look up at Malfoy. He’s glaring menacingly down at her.

“Malfoy?” I ask, disorderly, wiping the sleep out of my eyes. He looks down at me and tightens his hold around my wrist.

“We’re leaving,” Malfoy says, more to his mother than to me. Her faces squeeze together and she swipes furiously at her eyes, trying to hide the few tears that are falling.

“We are?” I ask, meekly, the room fulling coming into view now that my eyes have finally adjusted to the bright lights in here. The sitting room isn’t in shambles anymore and everything is neatly back together.

“Don’t do this son, please reconsider and come back with me,” Narcissa pleas, extending her hands out towards Malfoy. He steps back, pulling me back with him.

“You want to leave? So, leave! Go back to that fucking house if that’s what you really want to do. But we are done!” Malfoy screeches so loud I have to lean away from him. The noise assaulting me. I feel so dizzy that I have to lean back against him again to keep upright. My knees feel incredibly weak.

“Don’t say that Draco please!” Narcissa begs, tears streaming down her face. I look between the both of them in utter bewilderment. What the hell is going on? What happened while I was sleeping?

“Malfoy, what the hell is going on?” I say, trying to pull my arm out of his grip but he tightens his grip, sliding his hand down so his fingers rest in my palm. A rush of heat comes to my cheeks as it reminds me so much of a long time ago. His fingers resting in my palm like this. I turn away, rubbing my cheek against the top of my shoulder in an effort to stop the heat.

I look over at Narcissa and she’s staring at our hands, noticing Malfoy’s fingers resting in my palm. She nods slowly, standing up straight.

“I understand,” she says with a vicious tone, still staring at our hands.

“No, you _really_ don’t,” Malfoy comments curtly back, frowning.

“Here,” he says, grabbing a box of peppermint tea bags and chucking them across the room at Narcissa. They hit her in the chest and fall open onto her lap.

“I’m sure he’ll be waiting at home for you. Better bring them with you!” he says cruelly.

“Malfoy stop!” I shout, pulling on his hand roughly. He doesn’t even acknowledge me. Narcissa rubs at her face, wiping away the tears.

“Please Draco, it doesn’t have to be this way,” she pleas one last final plea.

“You don’t see it any other way and neither do I,” Malfoy explains, pulling my arm as he moves towards the door.

“I’ll make it easier for you. We’ll leave first. Once your back they’ll search your memories and find this place. We’ll be long gone by then,” Malfoy explains.

“Son!” Narcissa calls as Malfoy opens the door, letting in the cold night. It comes bursting in the door, biting at my ankles.

“Not anymore,” Malfoy whispers under his breath as he pulls me out the door and up the yard. I turn back towards the little house, looking in through the kitchen window but I don’t see anything.

“Malfoy, stop!” I shout, pulling my hand out of his more successfully this time.

“What happened?” I ask as he steps a few steps ahead, staring into the darkness.

“She wanted to go back. So, we have to go, come on!” He beckons for me to follow and I stare ahead confused. Not sure what to do. Whether or not I want to follow this man. Whether or not that is the best choice for me but there is no other choice really. What else can I do?

He turns back towards me and in the dim light from the moon, I can see his eyes are rimmed red.

“Are you coming?” he asks, extending his arm out towards me. I look back at the house once as a breeze rips through me. I pull my robes tightly around me as I ascend the hill up to him. He sighs a little under his breath as he falls into step with me.

“Where are we going?” I ask. I feel his hand on my wrist again and it’s so warm against the cold air.

“Away from here,” he says in a defeatist tone. I nod as he takes his wand out. Just as he mutters the spell that will apparate us away from here I hear him utter a panicked cry as we zip away suddenly.

* * *

When we drop down to the earth I land on my feet but Malfoy falls forward, sending his wand out ahead of him. For a moment I see it before a herd of people walk past, disappearing it from view. What the hell? I look around at the tightly packed four-story shops dotted along the narrow alleyway. We’re in Diagon Alley. I break out in a cold sweat on my back. Everything slows down to a snail's pace. Malfoy takes out my wand from his pocket and I grab it from his hand and he looks at me with the most pained expression I have ever seen. The herd of people move past us but not before a few people stop and stare. I watch as their expressions take in Malfoy. Shock clearly etched into their faces. A few women scream, grabbing their children and hurrying away. Why the hell did he bring us here?

I turn back towards him and I can tell by his expression that he hadn’t meant too. That would make sense of the panicked sound he made just before apparating. We have to get out of here and fast. I dart forward disappearing into the crowd of people, pushing them harshly aside as they stand gaping at Malfoy. I forgot how easily recognisable he is with that hair. A crowd is starting to form. I push through them searching for his wand. I spot it under a rather heavyset man. I lean down, grabbing it from under his boot and he loudly chastises me. I don’t even pay him a second thought as I push back through the crowd that has swarmed around Malfoy.

When I reach him I drop down as quickly as I can beside him and his expression when I emerge from the crowd and meet his eyes is hard to read. It looks like relief. I grab his shoulder and we apparate away. Away from the glaring eyes of Diagon Alley.

* * *

“Malfoy? What the hell was that?” I ask when we arrive. He stands up, brushing off his knees and stares around the house in confusion.

“I fucked up,” he admits, staring around the house. “I thought about Diagon alley at the last second. I don’t know why,” he adds, sitting down on the couch again in frustration.

I feel uncomfortable seeing him sitting there. Seeing Draco Malfoy sitting on the couch I had sat on for nineteen years.

“Where are we?” he asks, taking in the room.

“My house,” I explain. Malfoy shoots up from the chair as if someone has come charging in the door, realisation dawning on him.

“Granger what the fuck?” he asks, looking around the house frantically. There are apparition wards in my house. There has been since the start of the war and anyone who apparates into the house sets off an immediate alarm the goes straight to the order. Most people know this information. I move towards him, taking his hand in mine and he looks down at it before meeting my gaze.

“What are you doing?” he asks, squeezing my fingers.

“You were right,” I admit, heating rising in my cheeks.

“I did want to die because I’m tired of this. I am tired of being in this war, just like you. But I can’t just throw in the towel like you. Harry needs my help, Malfoy,” I say, pleading with him to understand why I have to do what I have to do.

“You’ve killed me, Granger. You may as well have driven the stake through my heart yourself,” he curses.

“Nothing is going to happen to you, trust me, okay?” I beg to which he runs his hand through his hair in aggravation.

“You saw how they reacted to me in Diagon Alley, Granger. You really think they’re just going to leave me off with a pat on the back?” Malfoy asks incredulously, rolling his eyes. “You’re not that naïve, are you?”

“We can still go,” he pleas, pulling on my hand. “We can go away somewhere, anywhere else. Somewhere abroad even until this is over. We can just go and forget all about this,” he begs. I want to cry all of a sudden at how desperate he looks. His whole demeanour is worn out and tired. I try to imagine all the things this boy has been through. Whether they’re better or worse than my experiences in this war.

“Malfoy I can’t hide from this. As much as I want too. I just can’t.” I explain, solemnly. He bows his head for a moment, staring down at his shoes.

“I don’t want to do this, Granger. Goddammit! Why did you do this?” he sighs. I hear sounds outside and Malfoys head darts towards the door. He pulls on my hand as a last resort. He turns towards the back door, taking a few steps towards it as if contemplating making a beeline for it.

“Stay with me,” I whisper before the door comes crashing open.

“We don’t know each other anymore,” he admits, staring towards the door as people file into the hallway.

“Yes, we do.”

He searches my eyes for a moment as a few members of the order come around the corner into the sitting room. Whatever he finds there I might not ever know but he moves away from the back door and stands beside me.


	19. Sweet Creature

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya guys!  
Here's the next chapter. I just want to thank everyone who's reviewed the last couple of days. I've read them all and they've been so nice to hear so thank you.  
Here's the next chapter I hope you like it and please review and let me know!  
Much Love<3

**Hermione's Point of View**

They flood in, one by one, into the cramped hallway, bumping and huddling together. Lupin and Tonks stand at the front of the group, staring with their mouths hanging slightly open. Gaping, they look at Malfoy with a look that would only fit watching a strange creature they haven’t seen before. Measuring him and his movement, trying to understand his nature.

“Hermione?” Lupin says, unsure. I look down at myself not realising how in tatters my clothes. How much I’ve let myself go or how much I haven’t cared about that in so long. I run an anxious hand through my hair that is stuck against my scalp with grease. It’s been a while since I’ve looked like the girl who set out with high hopes a year ago. Each tick of the clock has seemed to add to my dishevelled appearance.

“Lupin,” I say, smiling back at him. He turns his attention to Malfoy and I feel Malfoy shuffle nervously beside me. I step a little in front of him when Lupin raises his wand towards him. His face turning sour.

“What’s going on here?” he asks, pointing his wand straight at Malfoy.

“It’s okay, he's with me,” I say as a silence falls over the group. I lean across and take Malfoy’s wand from his hand, trying to make them understand. The crowd shifts back in a strange shock. I search their faces trying to understand. Suddenly Ginny steps forward from the back and takes us both in. Tears start streaming down my face at the mere sight of her.

“Ginny!” I cry as her own tears start to fall. She pushes through the crowd and starts to run towards me but Lupin grabs her by the arm and pulls her fiercely back. I watch him with concern as he moves around the couch. Malfoy grabs my wrist and pulls me back.

“It’s okay,” I whisper to him. Lupin moves forward towards me and turns his wand on me this time.

“Lupin, I don’t understand, It’s _me_,” I say, pleading.

“What was the last thing I said to you before you left that night?” Lupin asks, pointing the wand in my face. I search his eyes to see is he serious. The wand moves dangerously close to my face. The tip almost touching my nose.

“You said ‘Take care of Harry. He’s the last hope we have’,” I explain. Lupin weights this up for a moment before lowering his wand. I leave out a deep breath I had been holding in. Lupin turns his attention to Malfoy and then back to me again.

“What the hell is going on?” he whispers, low enough so the others can’t hear. But he’s cut off as Ginny pushes past him and flies into my arms. I wrap myself around her and squeeze until we both can’t breathe. When Malfoy notices that people are looking at us he drops his hold on my wrist and I wrap it around Ginny’s neck tightly.

“I’ve missed you so much,” she sobs into my hair.

“I’ve missed you too,” I assure her. I pull on her so tightly, trying to morph her into me. I hadn’t realised how much I had missed her until this second. She pulls back a little, pushing the hair out of my face and steals a glance at Malfoy. I can’t help feeling the sudden tension in the room. Everybody is watching ever little movement. Everybody is watching Malfoy.

“Come on,” Lupin says, pulling me ahead. “We have to get out of here before anyone else shows up,” he explains.

“He can’t come with us,” he adds. I pull out of Lupins grip, slipping under his arm. He turns, confused. I walk back to Malfoy.

“I’m not going anywhere without him,” I explain, standing beside him. Silence fills the room. They tilt their head at me. I am now the strange creature they watch.

“_Hermione_,” Tonks pleas, stepping forward.

“I’m not leaving him here,” I clarify. Malfoy grabs my wrist again and leans into my ear.

“Just go, Granger. I’ll be fine,” he whispers.

“No,” I shout at him and he looks away awkwardly.

“What did you think was going to happen, Granger?” he whispers again. The members of the order lean forward, trying to hear what’s being said. Ginny stares between us apprehensively.

“Look,” I say, turning towards the group. “I’m not going anywhere without him,” I state, my tone final.

“Hermione? He can’t come with us. You understand that right?” Tonks expresses with sincere eyes.

“Then I’m staying here,” I say. A few members of the order turn and mumble amongst themselves as Malfoy runs a frustrated hand through his hair.

“Why?” Lupin asks complete and utter disbelief in his voice. Malfoy sighs.

“Because without him. I would be dead now,” I explain. The group gasps a little before whispering to one another, mulling this information over. I feel as if we’re in front of some grand jury, deliberating over our lives.

“Granger,” Malfoy pleas.

“No,” I warn him as he pulls on my wrist again. A movement that isn’t missed by the order. I’m not going to leave him here. I’m not going to just abandon him to fend for himself when he’s public enemy number one right now.

“Hermione, Look-

“I can vouch for him!” Ginny says suddenly, pushing past Lupin again.

“What? Ginny!” Tonks calls, confused. She steps in front of Malfoy and he looks at her, pained.

“You don’t even know him,” Lupin warns her.

“Hermione trusts him so therefore I do. There’s a lot that ye don’t know. There’s a lot I never told everyone because Hermione asked me not too before she left,” Ginny explains and I blush slightly. Malfoy runs another frustrated hand through his hair. The tension in the room is disconcerting at best.

“Just bring the boy, Lupin. We can sort this out back at the safe house. We’ve been here too long,” Kingsley ushers Lupin. He looks worried before he finally nods, grabbing my shoulder and pulling me forward. I grab Malfoys arm and pull him along with me as the group moves awkwardly out the door. A few members casting murderous glances behind at Malfoy. He keeps his head low, not noticing any of them. I end up receiving the blunt end of their glares.

Outside parked in front of the house are two large black Jeeps.

“Cars?” I question, turning towards Ginny.

“Less conspicuous to move amongst the muggles,” she explains.

“Slower too,” Kinsley sighs.

At the end of my front gate, I turn and look up at the house once before I feel Lupins fingers curl around my upper arm tightly. He pulls me towards the second car. Malfoy follows behind.

“No, I want to talk to her alone. You go in the other car,” he practically spits. Malfoy sniggers back at him, starting to square up.

“Stop it!” I say, pushing on Malfoy’s chest as he pushes forward. Lupin, in turn, pushes against my back.

“What you thought you were just going to have your way all of a sudden?” Lupin shouts at him.

“Enough, Lupin!” Kingsley shouts as he ushers Tonks and Ginny into the first car. I take strength from her reassuring eyes before she disappears into the dark jeep.

“He stays with me,” I say to Lupin who furrows his brows together, angrily. He stops pushing and turns towards the jeep.

“Let’s go!” Kingsley says, hopping into his own Jeep. I grab Malfoy pulling him past Lupin and into the Jeep with me. Lupin reluctantly follows, shutting the door with a loud thud. The car starts up with a deep rumble. It’s been such a very long time since I’ve been in a car. Malfoy looks completely out of his element and if we weren’t in such a stressful situation I might even laugh.

“Don’t worry, it’s safe,” I whisper up at him. He scoffs, not taking his eyes off of Lupin. We sit beside one another on the seat facing Lupin. The jeep is set up more like a taxi than an actual passenger car. Where the two seats are set up facing one another, rather than in a row.

I am too tired to pay much attention to the tension in the air between Malfoy and Lupin. The gentle hum of the jeep on the road is almost melodic. I can feel my eyes drawing heavy. I fight as hard as I can against it but eventually, the gentle hum grabs me and pulls me away into sleep. My head lulling to the side to meet a soft rest.

* * *

**Draco’s Point of View**

Granger’s head drops slowly to the side as it comes to rest on my shoulder. I drop my shoulder down a little as I slide down in the seat. She readjusts her head on my shoulder and I hear her breath grow quieter as Lupin seems to turn more furious. I glower across at him and try to keep the smirk off of my face.

“Wipe that fucking smirk off of your face, Malfoy,” he spits. I smirk fully this time as his eyes turn murderous.

“Just because she vouched for you doesn’t mean you’re off the hook!” he whisper-shouts at me.

“I didn’t say anything,” I feign ignorance.

“You don’t have too. I can see it written all over your face,” he retorts. I roll my eyes at him, turning my attention out the window. I quickly throw my eyes back down to the floor instead. The feeling of watching everything whizz by outside going in the wrong direction makes me feel nauseous.

“What the fuck is going on?” Lupin finally asks. I’ve been watching it brew on his tongue for the last five minutes.

“What she said,” I retort, unwilling to have this conversation now.

“And what did she say? That you saved her life? Now, why would a Death Eater like you do something like that? You barely know this girl,” he asks. I smirk again.

“Better answer me now, Malfoy. Because when I ask you again later it won’t be this _pleasant_,” he explains. I roll my eyes at him.

“She was captured and they brought her to the Manor. I got her out,” I say summarising. By Lupin’s expression, he’s doesn’t quite buy this.

“Yes, but _why_? Why would you do all this for her? Why would she vouch for _you_? After everything bad you’ve done. One right doesn’t make it all okay.”

I can feel the stigma stronger than ever before. So unbelievable that she would ever stand beside me. I let it wash over me for a second before I look down at her sleeping face. She twists a little, her hands falling lose onto her lap.

“Potter asked me to get her out so I did,” I say, hoping this might placate his nonstop questioning.

“Harry? You saw Harry? Where was he?” Lupin rushes.

“At the Manor. He and the weasel were captured with her,” I explain. I look at him confused.

“Have you not heard from him?” I say, sitting up a little.

“No, we haven’t heard from any of them in over three months,” Lupin explains, wringing his hands together.

“Don’t tell her that,” I say. Lupin laughs.

“She’s going to have to find out at some point,” he explains, looking out the car window.

“Look can we just cut the questions for now? I’m sure whatever you have waiting back at wherever we’re going is going to be more fun for you anyways,” I say, knowing full well that they’re going to pump me with veritaserum until I have to hold my head up to keep it all down.

“I’m just trying to understand,” Lupin clarifies.

“Yeah well, I doubt you’ll be able too,” I respond.

“You’re right. I probably won't,” He answers. “Of all the people to save from the other side. You’re the last person who deserves it,” he adds. I look at him and see that he truly believes it. I turn my attention out the window because feeling nauseous is better than seeing that confirmation in his eyes. In strangers eyes. Someone who never knew me. I clench my fist but quickly unclench it again as the clenching causes my shoulder to move and in turn Grangers head lulls forward. I grab the front of her head before she can slide all the way down onto my lap and push her head back up to rest on the top of my shoulder. She snores quietly. I look at Lupin and he’s shaking his head at me in disbelief.

“How did she get like this?” Lupin asks after another ten minutes of awkward silence. He just can’t let this car ride be peaceful, can he?

“Like what?” I ask, looking her over.

“Like that,” he says, pointing to her arms and stomach.

“She’s so thin. So frail. I barely recognised her at the house,” he comments. I look down at her properly this time. I remember noticing it the first time I saw her in the forest but it’s just what I’m used to seeing now. You grow accustomed to people looking like death. It’s almost scary to see someone not look like that. I know I look for worse than her but I’m sure Lupin doesn’t give a shit about that.

“Some of us have to do the groundwork,” I explain. Lupin frowns back at me.

“Don’t pretend like anything you were doing was anywhere near the kind of work she did. She held those two boys together,” Lupin barks back.

“Yeah, and look what it’s done to her. She wanted to die that night in the Manor. Did you know that? She wanted to die because she was so fucking tired of this war. Is that how it’s supposed to be, huh? Kid’s dying for something that they don’t truly understand,” I bark back.

“She knew what she was getting into,” Lupin retorts, folding his arms on his chest.

“Did any of us know what we were getting into?” I ask and Lupin sighs.

The jeep slows suddenly as we pull up to a street lined with three-story townhouses.

“We’re here,” Lupin says, more to himself than me. I look out the window, noticing all the windows facing out towards the car. I pull my hood up and Lupin rolls his eyes back at me.

“Come on,” he says. I move my shoulder out from under Granger’s head.

“Wake up, Granger,” I say, shaking her slightly. She yawns loudly, brushing the sleep out of her eyes and stares around awkwardly, unsure of her surroundings.

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” she whispers, embarrassed.

“Don’t worry about it,” I say, not paying much attention to her as I watch Kingsley flick his wand towards the houses. The townhouses stare moving, revealing another house in between them. Kinglsey turns around and looks into the jeep at us.

“Come on,” I say to Granger, pushing her towards the door. “Let’s get this over with,” I sigh. The girl weasel pushes through the crowd once we’re outside the jeep. I drop my hand from Granger’s arm just as she laces her fingers through hers.

“Are you okay?” she gushes, brushing back Granger’s hair behind her ears.

“Yeah, Ginny. I’m just a little hungry is all,” Granger replies.

“Mum is inside and I’m sure she has dinner for us,” she says. I wonder am I involved in that formation of the word ‘us’. I doubt it. Lupin pushes me ahead as Granger walks ahead. I try to let it go. Here is not the best place to start a fight. As much as I didn’t want to be here. Where else was I going to do? She asked me to stay. _She_ asked. Nobody else. That’s all I have to remember. Lupin pushes again.

Once inside the door of the townhouse, the sound of shouting fills the air. But it’s not angry or malicious. It’s light and airy and almost joking. The second thing I smell is a burst of food. Home-cooked food, boiling away in a kitchen I can’t see yet. Granger turns to me with the biggest smile on her face but I can’t mirror it. She might be happy to be here but I can’t say that I am. I am not welcome here the same way that she is welcome here. In fact, I’m not welcome here at all and Lupin has made that pretty clear.

“Upstairs,” Lupin says, grabbing my arm and pushing me towards the staircase. Granger reaches her hand out to me but Lupin pushes it away.

“Malfoy,” she calls after me, reaching out. I keep my hands by my side as I turn towards the staircase. What did she expect? That we were all going to have a home-cooked meal and laugh about old times in Hogwarts. This is always how it was going to go. Why does she look so shocked?

“Hermione you go into the kitchen and grab something to eat. Take care of yourself while we take care of this, okay?” Lupin says. Granger pushes harder through the crowd.

“It’s fine, Granger. Just go,” I say and she stops pushing, her eyes turn to mine, almost begging. I look away and take a few steps up the stairs. Lupin watches our interactions closely.

“Come on, Hermione. Let’s go get something to eat. I’m sure they won’t be long,” the weasel says, casting her eyes down at Lupin. Hermione turns but not before she grabs Lupin’s arm.

“He helped me!” she says, squeezing his arm fiercely for a moment before Ginny pulls her away.

“We’ll see,” he mutters under his breath. I take off up the stairs and don’t look back down when I feel her eyes following me.

At the top of the stairs, I wait for Lupin who follows slowly, rubbing his arm where Granger grabbed him. I smirk to myself as he points down the hallway. I take off towards the room, pushing the door open. Inside the room the sudden lack of sleep and food properly hit me. In the corner of the room, leaning almost statuesque against the fireplace is Severus Snape.

“Snape?” I call, unsure whether or not my eyes are deceiving me. He turns around towards me and eyes me suspiciously.

“Malfoy?” he asks, equally unsure. Lupin comes into the room and shuts the door. The room feels overly cramped with the three of us in here.

“What the fuck is going on?” I ask, turning towards Lupin.

“Kingsley called you, _yes_?” Lupin asks, taking off his coat and leaning it across an armchair.

“Yes, what’s this about?” Snape asks, his eyes darting between Lupin and me.

“You work for the order?” I say, half to myself in disbelief. Snape disregards my question.

“Did you bring it?” Lupin asks but Snape shakes his head.

“We used up all the Vertiserum on that prison you brought in last week. I haven’t gotten a chance to brew anymore,” Snape informs him.

“So,” Lupin says frantically. “Can you brew one now?”

“Yes, I could. But I don’t think we have one lunar phase,” Snape says sarcastically.

“What?” Lupin asks.

“It takes 28 days to brew,” he informs him and I smirk slightly to myself.

“Fuck,” Lupin sighs, slumping down in the chair.

“There are other ways, of course,” Snape draws on, eyeing me. I roll my eyes at him, knowing exactly what he means. What is he playing at with this? Is he testing me or something? So he can see where my loyalties lie.

Just before I was cast out from the manor at the start of the war, Snape and I finished our Occulmency lessons. If that’s what he’s hinting at right now he’s testing me. Not for Lupin’s sake but for his own neck. I glare at him, unsure.

“Such as?” Lupin asks.

“I don’t know if you know this but I am trained in the art of Occulmency,” he explains. “I can see inside his mind. See every thought he’s ever had, see every person he’s ever spoken too if I should wish too.”

“Okay,” Lupin says, rolling up his sleeves. He grabs my shoulders and pushes me into the chair he was just sitting in.

“Where did you find him?” Snape asks, circling the chair, eyeing me.

“The alarms went off at Hermione Granger’s residences and we went investigating. That’s where we found them,” Lupin explains. Snape smiles a wicked grin.

“_Them_?” he questions, eyeing me with a raised eyebrow. I roll my eyes at him.

“He was with Hermione,” Lupin clarifies.

“Was he now?” Snape retorts mischievously. Lupin eyes him curiously. I scowl up at him. Is he taunting me or something?

“What kind of information are you looking for?” Snape addresses Lupin.

“He said that he saved her life. I need to know if that is true and whether or not he’s a treat to her or anyone here. Any other information you think is necessary too, don’t hesitate,” Lupin says. Snape smirks down at me at this information.

“Well let’s see what kind of man Malfoy is _now_,” Snape says taunting. I roll my eyes again. Snape prepares himself for a moment.

“Legilimens,” he murmurs, flicking his wand. Before it starts I already know what he’s going to search for. Snape wants to see will I close off the memories he already saw a year ago in Hogwarts. The one's Granger and I shared there and the ones I saw in the Pensieve. What does it matter to him anyway? He already knows them. He’s seen them before. But he’s testing me, way more than Lupin is. So when it begins I pull down all my walls, leaving everything open.

I feel the familiar intrusive feeling like a worm moving through my mind, picking and prodding at different memories. I stand in the Manor again, facing Bellatrix. I see her drop to her feet as I grab Granger, pulling her up into my arms as I disapparate with my mother. I see the English Channel outside Blaise’s grandparent's house and my mothers pained expression as I throw the tea bags at her, pulling Granger behind me out the door.

When Snape starts to search backwards I try my best to disassociate from it but I can’t force myself too. I can’t force myself to compartmentalise my emotions either. When the memories appear before my eyes from a year ago at Hogwarts my chest tightens. Snape runs through them all quickly. Our last night together before the night on the Astronomy Tower. Even the last time we spoke before we both disappeared for a year. He jumps back to recently and watches as I warn Granger in the woods about the Death Eaters coming. I see Potter then warning me to get her out of the Manor. Snapes flies through them all, searching for anything different or anything out of place. Something small that I might be hiding. But he won’t find anything.

When he finishes I cough a little, flying forward to lean over the chair. It’s been a long time since I’ve done that and I’ve forgotten the toll it takes. Snape sighs a little, not as frustrated or worn out as I am.

“So?” Lupin beckons eagerly.

“I have to correlate his memories with that of the Granger girl to make sure they haven’t been planted there by someone far more undesirable than Mr Malfoy here,” Snape explains.

* * *

**Hermione’s Point of View**

“Slowly,” Ginny says, pushing my wrist down, setting the spoon flying back into the soup.

“Ginny, I’m fine,” I lie, picking the spoon back up.

“If you eat too fast you’re going to throw up. So please, take it easy. You need this food to stay in your stomach,” Ginny says. I sigh, knowing she’s right. I take a spoonful of soup into my mouth and put the spoon down, waiting for a minute. She smiles in return. When the bowl is half empty Molly comes around with the pot and tops up the bowl.

“A fresh sup dear. It’ll warm you right up,” she muses, rubbing the back of my neck and it feels nice. It feels so nice to be taken care of by someone else for once. The entire last year I have spent taking care of both Harry and Ron. It’s nice to have a change.

The clock chimes at six and I stare up at the ceiling, not hearing anything.

“It will be okay,” Ginny assures me, catching me looking up. I stare around the room at the other Order members, huddled together at the top of the table, away from Ginny and I. They’re talking about me, I can feel it. I don’t blame them it’s a strange situation.

“Thanks for speaking up back there,” I say, turning towards her. “Word’s can’t describe what it’s like to see you again, Ginny. I’ve missed you so much,” I say, a tear slipping down my cheek. She catches it with her index finger.

“Don’t cry, Hermione. It’s okay now,” she smiles. I nod, taking another spoonful of the soup.

“That was pretty intense back there,” Ginny exhales.

“Yeah.”

“Everybody was a bit shocked when you took his wand. Tonks was talking about it in the car. I think that’s why Kingsley let him come here,” Ginny gossips.

“What do you mean?” I ask, turning towards her, eyeing Tonks talking at the top of the table.

“He just gave it to you Hermione,” Ginny clarifies.

“And?”

“You don’t just give your wand to _anyone_,” she explains. That explains why they were so shocked. But I hadn’t thought of it in that way, I guess.

“Thanks for vouching for him,” I say. Ginny smiles sadly at me.

“I know what he meant to you a long time ago, Hermione. I can’t say that I know him the same way that you do, at all. But I know enough to know that he’s not this monster everyone thinks he is.”

“Thank you,” I say, grabbing her hand and giving it a little squeeze.

“Hermione?”

“Yeah,” I say, taking another spoonful.

“How did this happen? Why are ye together?” Ginny asks.

The door to the dining room opens and Lupin enters, making his way to the end of the table. He comes up right beside me but I look past him trying to find Malfoy but I don’t see him in the doorway.

“Where’s Malfoy?” I ask him when he gets beside me, standing up from the table.

“He’s fine,” Lupin assures me. Ginny pulls me back down into the seat.

“Snape wants to confirm Malfoy’s story so he needs you to correlate it,” he explains.

“Right now?” Ginny frowns.

“Not now Lupin. Let the girl eat,” Molly demands from the top of the table, a washcloth over her shoulder and the soup pot tightly in her hand. Lupin sighs but agrees.

“Where is he?” I ask nervously, but the room falls quiet. The clock ticking loudly overhead as Malfoy steps slightly into the room, looking around awkwardly. His face set in his usual stoic expression.

Some of the Order members who hadn’t been at my house are seeing him for the first time. A few drop their forks, letting them clatter loudly against the mahogany table. They turn to him and again they look at him like a strange creature emerging from the dark. The tension is palpable.

“You’ll have some soup,” Molly pipes up at him and some people turn their glares at Molly. She either ignores them or simply doesn’t notice them. Malfoy looks around the room at their murderous glares and nods at Molly with a tremendous amount of inelegance.

I look at their faces watching him, the same way I used to watch him not too long ago. Before I really knew him and what he was like back at Hogwarts. This creature they’re all afraid of. A bad dog that has been known to bite when provoked. His eyes scan the room before landing on mine. I don’t see this strange creature they’re all afraid of. I feel my body naturally relax when his eyes are on mine. I know that Lupin is talking somewhere to my right but I can’t hear what he’s saying. The room melts away as I search his eyes. He relaxes a little and his eyes open up like the book I used to read. I see it all there in him. That he is okay and whatever happened in that room isn’t as bad as my imagination thought it was going to be. That doesn’t mean that it’s over by any means. But it’s over for this very moment and for that I’m grateful.

I can’t help it when a small smile breaks out on my face. Malfoy runs a hand through his hair and rolls his eyes at me, smirking back. But when his feign arrogance fades away all that’s left on his face is a small, genuine smile. I don’t see the _strange_ creature everyone else see. Something else comes to mind instead.

_Sweet_ creature.


	20. June Fifth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya, everyone!  
Thanks so much for the lovely reviews I've received lately. It's been so nice to hear from everyone. One plus of this global pandemic is I have plenty of time for writing and I think my writing is better even. Not so rushed like it used to be. Anyways let me know what you think of this chapter.  
Much Love <3

**Draco’s Point of View**

The door shuts quietly as I wait in the hallway, wringing my hands together. Lupin told me to wait downstairs but that was highly unlikely. What with half the room staring at me. I sigh, sliding down the wall, preparing myself to wait it out. Granger is in there now with Snape. I wonder how well she will take to having Occulmency performed on her. It’s not the most pleasant experience, especially the first time.

In the narrow, barren hallway with only the sound of the rushed, muffled voices downstairs to distract me, I think about what Snape might see in her mind. What way does she remember everything? If she even remembers it all. I know I do. Maybe I might have forgotten the exact shade of her hair colour until I saw her again in the forest but I remember the important things. How could I forget them? My mind wouldn’t let me even when I tried, and I did try.

My attention snaps away to a creak sounding on the stairs as Tonks makes her way up the stairwell, her eyes hanging low to the steps. She looks at me under her lashes, pursing her lips together tightly. I look at this woman who I have only known through hushed whispers around coffee tables I was allowed to sit at because I was deemed too young to comprehend. My _cousin_. How different we look now. My mother rarely spoke about her when I was younger. She climbs the last of the stairs before slipping down against the bannister in front of me. She folds her legs and pulls them tight to her, listening towards the door. When she hears nothing she turns her attention back to me.

“Sorry about all that mess at the house,” she starts, with a half-smile.

“You don’t know me and I don’t know you. It’s fair,” I say hoping she’ll let it drop.

“It was just a little shocking. To see you with her,” she adds, prying. I turn my attention to the door. Tonks watches me, her head half tilted at me.

“She’ll be okay. She’s strong,” Tonks suggests.

“I know that I’m just-

“Making sure?” she asks with a raised eyebrow. I’m too tired to argue with her so I choose to say nothing instead. 

“What do you want?” I ask, watching her carefully.

“Just to talk, I guess.”

“About what?”

“You?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a little preoccupied right now,” I say, grunting. Tonk’s lets out a little laugh and I search her face curiously.

“You can relax a little Draco. We’re not going to boot you out,” she assures me. “Well not tonight anyway,” she adds with a small laugh.

“That’s reassuring,” I taunt.

A small silence emerges as we listen to the sound of Lupin’s voice. But against the heavy door, it’s just murmurs, indistinguishable.

“Did you really save her life?” Tonks, asks, pulling my attention back to hers. I nod, slowly. Tonks smiles a little at this.

“Bellatrix is dead,” I say, figuring she should know. She’s her aunt too. Tonk’s bites her top lip, mulling this over.

“You know I remember when you were born. It’s so vague but I remember going over to the Manor to see you and you were so small bundled up in this hideous green blanket,” Tonks muses. I stare at her bizarrely. I didn’t realise Tonks and I had ever had any real screen time.

“It was before I left obviously,” she explains. “But I used to mind you when our parents were talking. I would sit beside you on the chair when you were just a baby,” she describes.

“Why are you saying all this?” I ask, unsure.

“I’m just trying to say that I’m sorry about what happened back there at the house. I know what it’s like to leave that family and I shouldn’t have reacted that way I was just worried about Hermione and I thought-

“You thought I was going to hurt her?” I imply. Tonk’s nods in response.

“I’m not surprised I mean it’s what everything thinks isn’t it?” I ask.

“I was just so surprised to see you there that I got caught up in the judgement. I know that I shouldn’t have because people used to judge me like that too before they got to know me. I’m sorry,” she says.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m used to it,” I say, shrugging it off. Tonks smiles slightly again, our eyes turning back and forth to the door in the absences of words to say.

“Are you going to stay here?” she asks interestedly. I look her up and down.

“I suppose that’s not up to me, now is it?” I reply. She smirks.

“I guess it’s not really up to us either,” she implies, turning her attention to the door with a self-satisfied, telling expression.

“Hmm?” I question. Tonks laughs, trying to conceal it behind her palm.

“You’ll go where she goes, am I right?” she says with an uneven smirk. I roll my eyes at her, pushing up the sleeves of my shirt. She lets out a loud, unguarded laugh.

“You’re easy to read sometimes,” she explains with a conceited sigh.

“Yeah, and you’re annoying sometimes,” I argue back, pathetically. She laughs loudly again.

“I get that a lot,” she clarifies. Tonks finishes laughing, rubbing her stomach affectionately.

“It will be okay Draco. It will just take some time for others to get used to the idea of you here. Like they got used to the idea of me here,” she explains.

“I’m not here to placate anyone else,” I shoot back.

“I know that I’m just letting you know. These are good people here.”

“There are good people on both sides,” I say and Tonks's eyes turn solemnly towards me. I wish I hadn’t said it now.

“I know that too,” she smiles.

“Because I – _like you_ – came from the other side I know that we don’t live in this black and white world. You and I have always been in the grey areas. Blended together, unsure of where to stand. But it does get easier with time, Draco,” she says.

I stare at her, marvelling over her slightly clumsy, cheery expression. How can she be so upbeat in this war? Where does she draw it from? I have never really thought about this woman in my entire life and here she sits across from me proving that we are the two most similar people in this house.

“and please don’t be angry with Lupin, okay? The month has just ended and he’s just finished his cycle two days ago so he’s a little bit moodier than usual. He should perk up in a few days,” she explains. A fleeting thought enters my head.

“What date is it?” I ask. Tonks purses her lips together in thought.

“It’s the fourth today, I think. Why?”

“Fourth of what?”

“_June_,” she says with a curious uneasy chuckle. She watches me, apprehensively.

The door opens suddenly, the sound of it dragging loudly across the floor as Lupin steps out, taking in the view of us both huddled across from one another on the floor. He sighs a little, before stepping out of the room.

“Come on,” he calls to Tonks. She smiles brightly at me before stepping up from the ground, not before almost falling over her own foot. Lupin catches her and sniggers a little as she rights herself. Lupin stops at the top of the stairwell, turning towards the door as Snape emerges. He glances at me for a moment before turning towards Lupin.

“As we discussed?” Lupin asks.

“Very well,” he says, casting a glance at me under his dark lashes.

“What does that mean?” I ask, loudly trying to get their attention.

“Snape is going to go to the Manor,” Lupin explains. “To find Harry and Ron,” he adds. Snape stands for a moment while Lupin talks and when he finishes he makes his way down the stairs without another word. I hear the front door bang.

I stand up from the ground as Lupin and Tonks disappear downstairs, the noises in the dining room silencing for a moment while they enter. The door shuts, cutting off anything else from them. I walk into the room to find Granger leaning over the armchair. Much like myself earlier. I walk around, leaning on the side of a coffee table while I wait for her to regain herself. She rubs the tips of her fingers across her eyebrows, falling down below her eyes and around again, repeating this motion until she notices me. She watches me for a moment from the gaps between her fingers.

“Are you okay?” I ask, unsure what to say.

“They did the same thing to you?” she asks, her words falling into the palms of her hands.

“Yeah, but I’m kind of used to it. That wasn’t my first time,” I emphasis.

“You’re doing a lot better than me the first time,” I add, lightheartedly. But Granger's expression keeps the air in the room still.

“That was a lot,” she says, leaning back into the chair. I know that she means mentally, not physically. I would endure the physical aspects of it a thousand times over if it meant I didn’t have to actually see it. To see what was buried in my mind. There are some things you shouldn’t have to see in life and the memories you try to forget are certainly one of them.

“Come on,” I say, grabbing her forearm. At first, she tries to walk by herself but after a few steps, she leans the majority of her weight against me.

“What did they say?” I ask, moving out of the room and into the hallway. I stop, a little awkward, not fully sure where to go from here. Granger takes a step ahead and leads us down the hallway towards one of the rooms. She pulls the door open revealing an old room, with a double four-poster bed, patterned linen line the bed and the dark-coloured curtains are almost drawn completely shut, a speck of fluorescent light breaking through.

“I used to sleep in this room when I was here,” she says, moving towards the bed.

“What did they say, Granger?” I ask again. She looks me over once before standing up from the bed. She pulls off her coat, dropping it to the floor. She walks a few feet ahead, shakily grabbing each corner of her jumper and pulling it over her head, almost slipping as she throws it behind her onto the floor. She moves forward into the ensuite and turns the shower on with a gurgle from the pipes running along the roof upstairs. They clank and chirp before I hear the steady flow of water hitting the bathtub. Granger starts to undress, slipping out of her pants and shirt. I turn away awkwardly when I hear the shower curtain slide across. When I hear the sound again I turn back around, staring at the heat rising above the shower curtain. Her silhouette barely visible behind it.

I walk over to the wardrobe, pulling both doors open. Inside there are a hand full of clothes, varying from sizes. I pull out a loose pair of pants and an oversized shirt and leave them on the corner of the sink in the bathroom. There is a stillness in here, emanating from behind that shower curtain. It finds a place in me too as I look in the slight aperture between the end of the curtain and the wall. The water pooling at the end of the bathtub is almost black. Her silhouette stands unmoving behind the curtain. I leave the clothes and pull the door halfway shut behind me.

I gather a set of clothes for myself from the wardrobe before sitting on the bed, with the clothes pooled in my lap, waiting. I hear the sound of the shower turn off and a few minutes later Granger steps out, her hair hanging long over one shoulder, almost as black as her eyes look. She meets my eyes for a second before she walks around the other side of the bed and crawls into it, facing the opposite direction.

“I’m going to take a shower, okay?” I say, leaning over towards her. She nods in response. When I pull the shower curtain across the bottom of the bathtub is rimmed with a fine line of dirt. I step into it washing around the edges of the tub before I stand under the scalding hot water, letting it burn at least two layers off of me. It’s time to burn a few layers off.

When the hot water runs out I stand at the back of the tub for a minute letting the water runoff me. I hesitate at the door, listening to see if I can hear her breathing. When I don’t hear anything I step back into the room to find her on her back, staring up at the ceiling. I run a towel through my hair and look around the room unsure of where to put it before I decide to just drop it on the ground. Granger’s clothes are already spewed across the floor. I slide up into the bed and lay outside the covers, staring at the roof beside her. It’s been a very long time since I’ve laid down and been this clean before.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask, leaning my head to the side to see her face. She blinks rapidly, sighing loudly.

“You know Harry used to always ask me that. Back when we were on the road. He would always ask me that all the time and it drove me mad sometimes,” she rambles.

“Why does everyone think that I want to talk about what's on my mind every second of every day?” she asks, turning her head to mine. We’re not exactly close on the bed but we’re closer than we’ve been in the last year.

“Why can’t we just sit in silence?” she argues, her voice growing annoyed. I nod, turning my head back up to the ceiling.

“We can,” I say, placating her. She huffs, aggravated. I let my eyes grow soft, the light from the streetlamps outside casting a small glow over the roof. It’s late. Granger sighs again.

“You’re only saying that,” she says.

“We don’t have to talk if you don’t want too,” I reply. I feel the bed shift as she turns over, facing out towards the windows.

A few moments pass in silence, the sound of streetcars whizzing by outside. A few trucks moving through the city at night. I am not accustomed to these sounds. I did not grow up with them but over the last year, I've learnt to sleep through a lot worse.

“Why aren’t you saying anything?” she snaps suddenly. I smirk into the dark room.

“Because I understand how you feel,” I explain. She rolls back over, lying on her back again. We listen to another car zoom past outside.

“Yeah because you understand everything. Malfoy, the empathetic,” she draws on. I can hear the anger in her voice and the stiller I become the worse it gets for her. I know that so that’s why I continue to do it.

“If you’re angry Granger. That’s okay too,” I say quietly.

“I’m not angry,” she snaps back, almost overlapping my sentence.

I can feel her hands clutch into the blanket as she pulls, balling it into her fists.

“I just didn’t think it would be like that,” she adds, sighing deeply. Her hands unclench, releasing the blanket.

“I know,” I agree. She turns towards me, balling her hands together under her head for support. I drop my head to the side and I can just about make out her features in the darkness. She's watching me eagerly, waiting for me to speak. But she has to speak, that’s the way this has to go. She knows that.

“I mean, Snape explained what was going to happen and said it wouldn’t be pleasant but I didn’t expect to have to see it as well. I don’t know what I expected but it wasn’t that. It was like I was there again, in all those memories,” she rambles on. I shift the rest of my body towards her.

“I know,” I assure her.

“There was so much that I had forgotten- that I had stored away until this war was all over. All these issues and things that hurt me that I couldn’t bear to think about when I was on the road with Harry and Ron. There was just so much and to see them all again it just-“ She loses her sentences, staring off into the middle distance.

“What did Lupin say after?” I ask. Granger’s eyes soften as she slowly comes back into the room.

“Snape said it was satisfactory. Whatever was in my head matched whatever was in yours,” she explains.

“But he knew. I mean he saw everything from Hogwarts. The way he looked at me afterwards was strange. It was almost pained. Like he felt sorry for me or something,” Granger implies.

“What did he see in your head?” she asks, leaning up on the pillow more. The movement causes her to shift a little more towards me on the bed.

“The same as you, I suppose. We have the same memories of that time. He searched the memories of us together. Lupin wanted to see if I was a threat to you or anyone here,” I say.

“I told him you weren’t. I explained that to him in the room but he said this was necessary,” she describes.

“What did you expect Granger? That they were going to just take your word for it?” I ask, laughing a little at the end.

“Do you remember it all?” she asks, changing the subject.

“What?”

“Us? Back then,” she says, quietly, her voice holding a hint of embarrassment she’s trying to conceal. I run my tongue over my lips, wetting them slightly before I speak.

“I remember,” I clarify. “Do you?”

“It’s not something you can just forget,” she acknowledges and for a moment we sit there in silence. Just thinking.

“It was a long time ago, Granger,” I add, unsure. She sighs a little at this.

“I know,” she answers. I bite my tongue, unsettled by this conversation. One that I know will have to happen at some point but one we both don’t want to have. It’s always that way. We always try and avoid the difficult conversations in life. But in turn, we end up not having them. Then we’re left making up the other half of the conversation. I don’t know which is worse. The knowing or the not knowing.

“Why didn’t you run? Back at the house? I saw the way you were looking at the back door. You wanted to go,” she asks. I stare back up at the ceiling thinking back to the panic and tension I felt at the house. Up until a certain point I wasn’t sure what was happening. I didn’t know whether or not she had deliberately gone there to turn me in. I didn’t know which leg to stand on.

“I wanted too,” I start, sighing. “But you asked me to stay.”

“And so you stayed?”

“And so I stayed.”

“It’s that simple?” she asks, watching me with searching eyes.

“What do you want me to say, Granger? What conversation are you trying to have?” I ask, completely unsettled.

“I don’t know Malfoy,” she answers, groaning into the darkness. There’s something I haven’t told her. Something I guess that’s stopping me from speaking. From answering the question I know she’s trying to ask. That when I saved her from Bellatrix it had all looked so similar. It had all looked so similar to what I had seen in her future. The one that Dumbledore had told me was a lie. But I can’t move past it. It’s been at the back of my mind since that night, just churning away in thought.

I lean up away from the bed, my legs falling out over the side.

“Hey, where are you going?” she asks, shocked, pulling on my forearm. “Don’t go. I’m sorry,” she rushes.

“It’s not that, Granger,” I say, pressing into my temples.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, sitting up, still pulling on my arm.

If it was true and Dumbledore had just lied for whatever reason, is that something she would want to know. That what I had seen in her future could be real. Is that something she would want or something that would just add to her list of problems. I turn around and her eyes are widened, probing my face. I look away, down to my palms. Is that something I would still want?

“Hey, come lie down. I won’t say anything else, okay?” she says her voice low and soothing. The road is quiet outside, no cars whizzing by anymore just the persistent glow of the street lamps. It must be late now. The house is silent still. I let her pull me back around, laying my head against the pillow. She shifts forward, laying her head on the very corner of my pillow. She pulls the blanket high up, bundling it just under her chin.

“We can just sleep now,” she assures me with a small smile. I look over her entire face, how clear and bright it is now when it's not caked with dirt. How different and younger she looks in this light. The glow from the street light cascades over the right of her face, causing her right eye to shine a little, lightening it up into this brilliant orange.

Somewhere far below on the first story of the house the large grandfather clock in the dining room chimes loudly and I know it’s midnight. I smirk a little before a small chuckle escapes past my lips. Granger peaks up a little at this.

“What is it?” she asks, leaning up to me.

“It’s June fifth,” I reply, mulling this over. She looks at me, confused.

“It’s my birthday,” I explain, watching her. She smiles brightly at me. I guess I never thought I would make it to twenty years old.

“You’re so old now,” she jokes, pushing at my chest, but she stills her hand letting it rest there as she smirks at me. Her eyes burst with colour and a vibrancy that I haven’t seen from her in a very long time.

“What are you going to wish for?” she asks, pushing on my chest again. Her smile is something to see. I had forgotten how big and infectious it was. I smile back at her.

I don’t want to think about the future and whether or not telling her is the right or wrong thing. Because I never thought I was going to make it to twenty years old. I never thought I was going to make it nineteen either but I did. And I did that by taking it one day at a time. That’s how I want to live my life. Just one day at a time. Today is June fifth and I want to live it like today is the only day that there is or ever will be. Because that might be true. Whether or not our future is the same will be determined on the day that it happens. For now, there is just this. Right here.

“I have everything I want,” I assure her. Her mouth falls open slightly, the skin pulling away from one another to fall into a small oh. When she starts to speak, opening her mouth but falling silent, I slip my right arm under her neck and pull her towards me, flush against my body. She’s frozen still for a moment before the arm that was pressed against my chest snakes under my arm and behind my shoulder. I squeeze pulling her tight against me. I feel her heart thumping loudly against my collarbone.

“I’m sorry,” I say, burying my head into the crook of her neck. She shakes her head.

“It’s okay,” she responds, sniffling loudly against my neck.

“It’s not,” I clarify. “I fucked up,” I admit. I can feel her tears against my neck. I rub my hand up and down her back as she shakes her head again.

“Everybody fucks up sometimes,” she cries, wiping her nose against my shirt. “You made up for it,” she assures me. She feels so small and frail against me but she holds onto me with a tremendous amount of strength.

She pulls back, rubbing her face against the pillow, soaking it. When her eyes are clear again she finds mine.

“Do you think we can ever be those people we were in Hogwarts again?” she asks, hopeful.

“I think that we can try,” I say.

“I haven’t felt like me in a very long time,” she says, dreamily, staring up at the ceiling. I brush my hand over her face, wiping away a few rogue tears.

“You’re still you. You’re still the same,” I assure her. She turns, leaning up onto her elbow and looks deep into my eyes.

“What are you doing?” I ask, slightly embarrassed. I feel heat rush to my cheeks.

“Just seeing something,” she answers nonchalantly, lying back down on the bed. She shifts back into the crook of my arm, laying her head against my shoulder.

“And?”

“You’re still the same too,” she agrees.


	21. Familiar places

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya guys!  
First off I hope everyone is being safe. Sending you love during these scary times.  
Sorry, it's been so long since I've updated. I was working on a side project; a novel I'm writing. I got a little caught up in it and couldn't put myself back in this world for a while. But hopefully, this chapter makes up for it.  
Please review and let me know your thoughts on it.  
Much love <3

**Hermione’s Point of View**

I slip out of the bed when the morning glow climbs through the window and reaches across the bedroom floor. I move Malfoy’s arm from across my chest, leaving it gently down at his side as I slip out of the bed and shut the door silently behind me.

In the dining room, there’s a small handful of people awake this early for whatever reason. Some look as if they haven’t slept at all yet and a few other,- like myself- have managed maybe three or four hours sleep. I walk into the kitchen and search the presses for coffee. I eventually find it and hold it close to my chest for a second in this stolen moment of victory. I feel the water pot to see if the heating charm is still working, listening to the sounds of the familiar kitchen. We hadn’t been back here since November of last year but it feels like yesterday now standing in the kitchen. I make the cup of coffee and sit in the dining room, staring at the sun rising out over the tops of the townhouses nearby.

Tonks comes into the room then, holding a folded up newspaper in her hand. She removes her scarf, chucking it across the back of one of the chairs and makes her way down towards me, studying the newspaper. Lupin follows behind her, leaving his coat over the same chair.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, taking in their collective morbid expression. She looks up from the newspaper and throws it down in front of me. I slide my coffee back, pulling the paper into view.

“He was noticed,” Lupin expresses. The headline on the front of the Prophet reads ‘_Draco Malfoy Spotted in Diagon Alley’. _

“_How_? We were only there for fifteen seconds, twenty max. I don’t understand,” I say, reading the rest of the article. It goes into a lot of detail about his father, how he was suspected of the murder of Albus Dumbledore. I push the newspaper away.

“You’re not mentioned though, so we can thank our lucky stars,” Lupin says.

“You’re not so recognizable anymore,” Tonks implies. I get what she means. I don’t look the same as I did a year ago. Not by a long shot. But Malfoy. It’s hard to miss him.

“They’ve searched all of Diagon Alley for him,” Lupin starts. “The Death Eaters,” Lupin explains.

“That’s close to here though, isn’t it?” I ask, unsure.

“It’s _close_,” Tonks verifies. I bit my lip, staring out the window at the blinding sun.

“Will they come here?”

“Most people don’t even know about here but the area holds a certain magnetic pull. If they’re looking they might sense something in this area,” Lupin sighs, running a hand through his hair. I take a long swing from my coffee as Tonks slumps down in the chair beside me.

“Did you hear anything from Snape?” I ask, eagerly. Tonks and Lupin exchange a look.

“What?” I ask.

“They’re not there anymore,” Lupin admits.

“They got out?” I ask, hopeful.

“They must have but we don’t know where they are,” Lupin says.

“But they’re out. That’s the main thing. They got away,” I say, glad. If they’re not in the manor anymore it doesn’t matter where they are, as long as they’re safe.

“Yes, but we need to find them. Maybe they’ll write or go somewhere where we can find them,” Lupin suggests. Tonks rubs my arm reassuringly when she notices I’ve drifted away somewhat.

“They’ll check in soon. We’ll locate them, okay?” She smiles sweetly at me, pulling my coffee cup across the table and taking a swing from it. Her face squeezes together as she swallows.

“You should have asked,” I laugh.

“Hermione!” She says, wiping at her tongue.

“I like my coffee strong,” I admit. Lupin laughs, putting his hands down on Tonk’s shoulder affectionately as she uses a napkin to wipe at her tongue.

“That’s disgusting,” she comments. I laugh, pulling the coffee cup back.

The sound of thumping sounds outside the room and Lupin pulls out his wand. Tonks shoots up from the chair, moving towards the dining room door as Ginny bursts into the room, waving a piece of parchment above her head. She hits into the bottom corner of the large table, breathing deeply.

“Ginny, what’s going on?” Lupin calls, running up to her.

“I have it. I got it just now,” she says, panting frantically.

“Just breathe!” Tonks orders and Ginny hands the piece of parchment to Lupin. His eyes search the page, darting from side to side as he reads.

“What’s going on?” I ask, standing up from the table. The chair screeches loudly behind me. Lupin smiles, turning and hugging Ginny. He hands the parchment to Tonks and she, in turn, scans the page. She covers her mouth with her hand in surprise.

I move around the table, pushing ahead as I come to stand beside Tonks leaning over her shoulder to see.

“It’s from Harry,” Tonks smiles, rubbing at her eyes.

“What?” I say, snatching the parchment from her hands.

She’s not lying. It is from Harry. I can tell from the bad handwriting sprawled all over the letter. I scan the parchment as quickly as I can then read it slowly for a second time. They’re safe, both of them and they got out. The letter is addressed to Lupin but it consists mostly of questions about me and have I shown up yet. Harry describes how he asked Malfoy to get me out of the manor and that should be their first priority. Locating me. In the end, he gives his location.

“Where is this?” I ask, pointing towards the address at the end.

“It’s in Cornwall,” Ginny answers, pulling away from Lupin.

“It’s Bill and Fleurs house. It’s on the coast,” she explains.

Ginny turns to Lupin keenly and the room grows quiet waiting for him to speak.

“Only a few of us can go. We can all apparate there, okay.”

“Who gets to go?” Ginny demands. Lupin runs a frustrated hand through his hair. His hands dropping to rest on his hips and Ginny flashes up at him.

“I’ll go and Hermione has to come too. I’m sure the boys will want to make sure for themselves that she is okay.”

“If Hermione is going then I’m definitely going,” Ginny argues and walks out of the room before Lupin can even reply. Tonks giggles behind her hand as Lupin laments loudly.

“Malfoy can’t come,” Lupin says abruptly, turning towards me.

“It’s the first time I’ve seen the boys in over a year and I don’t think that kind of _friction_ is needed,” he supplies.

“Did you not read the letter? Harry said that he asked Malfoy to help me and he _did_!” I argue boisterously, causing a few members of the order scattered around the table to turn away awkwardly, pretending they're not listening to our argument.

“Hermione don’t fight me on this, okay. Not right now,” he says, defeated. Lupin leaves the room and I hear the sounds of his footsteps on the stairs. I turn to Tonks and she’s wearing an expression that can only say ‘_I’ll talk to him’_.

I grab my coffee off the counter and take the stairs three at a time. Inside the room, Malfoy stirs lightly in the bed when I enter. He swipes his hand over his eyes as he comes to life sluggishly. His face looks different in the mornings. It’s softer, less tense. His skin looks softer too and his eyes are a tad puffy. He swipes at his eyes again as he squints against the morning light trying to take me in.

“What time is it?” he asks, clearing his throat loudly.

“It’s early. Really early,” I comment.

“Why are you up so early, Granger?” he asks, throwing his legs out of the bed. I walk over and hand him the half drank cup of coffee. He sniffs at it for a moment throwing me a suspicious expression as if I might have drugged the coffee. Deeming it okay he takes a long swing and doesn’t squint as much as Tonks did when she decided to take a sip. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and chuckles a little.

“You want to inject it directly into your bloodstream?” he asks, motioning towards the coffee.

“It’s not that strong everyone needs to relax,” I argue.

“Why? Who _else_ are you giving your coffee too in the mornings?” he asks. I don’t miss the tone he tries to hide.

“Tonks took a sip out of it too and she almost died,” I clarify. His face relaxes a little. He walks into the bathroom and I follow him in. His hair is sticking up as if he slept upside down like a bat. It’s quite endearing. I conceal a smile behind my hand.

Malfoy looks around the sink. He takes the toothpaste into his hand and puts a little bit of it into his mouth, rubbing it around with his finger. I do the same, swishing it around to create a foam.

“What did Lupin say? Did you talk to him already?” Malfoy asks, watching me in the reflection of the mirror. I spit into the sink, wiping my mouth with the towel on the back of the cistern.

“What Granger? Tell me,” he stresses.

“You were spotted in Diagon Alley. It was on the front page of the Prophet today. Tonks showed me,” I explain.

“Were you mentioned?” he asks.

“No.”

“Good. I’m always in the Prophet. They’re sort of obsessed with me,” he replies with a hint of smugness, brushing it off completely.

“Diagon Alley is close to here Malfoy,” I express, following him out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom. He goes to the wardrobe and files through it, seemingly trying to find clothes that will fit him.

“Death eaters are going to be looking for you,” I warn.

“Then we’ll just go somewhere else, Granger,” he says nonchalantly. I bow my head, unsure.

“What?” he questions, reading me. I bit my lip and stare out the gap in the curtains. The cars are starting to move now as the world wakes up. The trees swaying lightly in the warm summer morning. Their leaves moving in dense masses like women's hair.

“Ginny got a letter from Harry. He’s at Ron’s brother’s house in Cornwall,” I explain watching as Malfoy takes in this new information. He weighs it up, leaning against the wardrobe door, slowly absorbing. His face twists into an expression I haven’t seen in a long time. The solid blankless demeanour he used to wear in school years before I ever knew him. Completely emotionless.

“So that’s it then, huh?” I scowl at him.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“You’re just going to run back to Potter now that he’s called you,” he explains. He throws a jumper over his head and walks over to the window.

“It’s not like that. I want to make sure he’s okay,” I try to explain. Malfoy waves his hand at me dismissively.

“Are you going to stand there and deny that if he asked you you wouldn’t disappear with them again?”

“Malfoy this isn’t fair,” I argue.

“Answer the question, Granger!”

“I don’t know what I would do, okay? Things are a little all over the place now.”

“So sorry I complicate things,” he says sardonically.

“Malfoy stop acting like this!” I shout loud enough that anyone in the hallway will surely be able to hear. Malfoy rolls his eyes and crosses his arms across his chest like a spoilt child almost.

“Things are clearly different now,” I say, embarrassingly. He raises his eyebrow at me expectantly.

“I just need to make sure they are okay. I’m not sure what’s going to happen tomorrow. Heck, I’m not sure what’s going to happen in the next hour. Everything is so uncertain right now,” I defend. He turns around towards me, biting the corner of his bottom lip.

“It’s just it’s a little different for you Granger. This is a little simpler for you than it is for me. You have all these options. You can go back to Potter and Weasley or stay here or go to another safe house. You’re accepted in most places. I have just this here, right now. _With you_. I don’t have any other option,” he says, sitting on the edge of the bed. He rubs his hand over the back of his neck as he turns his face away from me. I sit down on the bed beside him.

“I’m not going to disappear Malfoy. You don’t have to worry about that,” I say straightly choosing to brush past all the bullshit. He turns his head to me, embarrassed.

“Is that what you’re afraid of?” I ask with a hopeful smirk. I know I’m pushing it but the coffee is finally flowing and I suddenly feel a little daring. I think I see his pupils dilate a little but I can’t be certain.

“I just have nowhere else to go,” he says awkwardly, deflecting. I smirk at him as he turns away to hide his embarrassment. I know it’s unfair to hold him to the things he said last night this early in the morning. But it’s enjoyable to be the one in control sometimes.

“I’m not going anywhere, okay,” I say reassuringly. The daring part of me takes control as I lean across and press my face lightly into the crook of his neck. He turns back towards me and I pull back a little. He catches the back of my neck and holds me there. Our cheeks pressed together, side by side. I can feel the stubble of his almost beard rubbing against me. It feels nice. We both look down and breathe deeply into the small space between us. He squeezed the back of my neck and I press my hand out against his chest. He grabs my wrist with his other hand and we stay like that in the sound of our collective breaths. The sun coming in the window stretching far up the back wall at this point.

“I’m sorry,” he says in an almost inaudible sigh. I shush him, rubbing my cheek against his. If there was ever one secret that could be told about Draco Malfoy that was to be disbelieved it would be how gentle he can be. How incredible still he can become in the moments when it is required. How he can force that same response out of others.

I pull back, his hold on the back of my neck loosening as I stare at him. I physically see his eyes dilate this time. I watch them go from blank discs to tiny little dots. His eyes look so silver in this light. Like a crow, I watch on in awe as this tension builds between us. A tension that builds even more as each exhale we fall a little more forward, more towards one another.

His eyes flicker down to my lips so quickly I almost miss it. I look down at his mouth and his lips are parted. He wets them slowly and a flush soars up to my cheeks. I know what is to come and I want it more than anything right now but when I look at his eyes I want to freeze this moment and bask in it. It has been a very long time since someone has looked at me this way. I had spent so much time away from civilization that I thought no one ever would again. But yet here it is again. Clear as day on his face. Desire.

He slides his hand around the side of my neck and pulls me in. I part my lips slightly but his mouth goes to my cheek as he leans in. He presses his lips against my cheek, dropping down to my jawline as he expels his hot breath against my skin. The hair on the back of my neck rises. He brushes his lips very lightly, drawing a line to my lips. His skims across my mouth as he moves to the other side of my neck. My heart hammers in my chest at the brief contact that I can’t help the loud moan that escapes. I hadn’t realized how much I had been holding in my breath until his lips barely touched mine. I feel his smile against me as he brings his lips back to mine. Hoovering just inches away from mine. I pull at him but he stops me, pushing at my chest each time I try to pull him towards me.

“Stop,” I argue, childishly and he smiles so wide, sniggering. He stops pushing against me and settles his hand against my cheek.

“I fucking missed this,” he admits breathlessly. I pull him the final inches towards me. Our mouths come together delicately as he picks me up from the bed like I’m completely weightless. I wrap my legs around him, using it as leverage to lean more into him. He kisses me deeply and I meet his mouth with just as much intensity. It should be new and different but it’s not. It’s the exact same as its always been. We may have changed in this last year and a half but _this_ has not changed at all. We still fit together the exact same. Puzzle pieces don’t change I think. His mouth is warm and dangerously familiar and enticing at the same time. How could I have forgotten how good of a kisser Draco Malfoy was? Had I purposely suppressed this knowledge?

A knock sounds on the door. My head snaps to it as I untangle my legs from around Malfoy. He drops me to the ground and turns around, readjusting himself. I pull at my shirt trying to fix the collar as Ginny walks into the room indifferently. She stops, reading the energy in the room for a moment and raises her eyebrows at me.

“Oh I’m _so_ sorry,” she says, drawing out the words sarcastically. I roll my eyes at her and make my way into the bathroom. Ginny follows me towards the door, leaning against it.

“Are you ready to go?” she asks, and I lean around her to stare at Malfoy.

“Go where?” he asks and Ginny mouths the word ‘_sorry’_ at me. I sigh.

“We’re going to go see Harry and Ron in Cornwall. To check in with them,” I supply.

“Okay,” he says grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair.

“Lupin said you can’t come,” Ginny says and I reach out at her, trying to grab the words from her mouth before she speaks. Malfoy raises his eyebrows at her.

“Ha,” he says sardonically and walks out of the room. Ginny shrugs her shoulders at me as we watch him take the stairs two at a time down.

“What’s up with him?” she asks. “He’s awful chipper this early in the morning,” she notes suspiciously, watching me with a knowing expression.

* * *

**Draco Malfoy’s Point of View**

When I reach the bottom of the stairs I’ve come up with twelve different way I could secretly kill the girl Weasley for interrupting Granger and I. When Lupin walks out of the dining room I’m up to fifteen.

“Malfoy?” he asks. I stand there as Granger and Weasel make their way down the stairs.

“You ready Lupin?” The weasel calls, picking up her jacket from the hook. _Twenty_.

“Hermione?” Lupin says disapprovingly as he eyes me.

“I go where she goes. The quicker you accept that the less time we spend standing here wasting time. So shall we go and see the wonderful Potter?” I say, turning towards the door.

Lupin shoots Granger a pained expression but she dodges it and follows me out the door.

Outside a car waits, parked against the curb.

“We can’t apparate this close to the city. We’ll drive to the outskirts and apparate from there. The car will wait for us,” Lupin explains to the two girls, refusing to acknowledge me.

We climb into the car. The Weasel, Granger and I squeeze tightly into the back seat. Under the cover of our coats, I take Granger's wrist and rub my fingers against the soft part below her palm. She turns her head away, hiding her blush from me. Lupin catches my eyes in the review mirror and I stare him down for a while before he casts his eyes away.

We reach a large area of connecting fields behind a new housing development.

“There’s a safe apparition point on the top of that hill,” Lupin points to the small hill at the very top of the overgrown fields. When we finally reach it the four of us are completely out of breath. The afternoon sun is burning hot today. I should not have grabbed my coat when I was dramatically exiting the room earlier. Lupin holds his ankle and squeezes it tightly for a second.

“Come on,” he says, grabbing Ginny’s arm. I grab Granger’s hand as we apparate.

When we land the first thing I notice is the heat. The second thing I notice is the feeling of standing on an uneven surface. I step back a little almost losing my footing. The sun burns at my skin and I pull at the collar of my coat. I kick the earth and it comes apart with no resistance. I look down and realize it’s sand. I lean down and grab a handful between my fingers. It falls between the crack and a strange sensation starts in my stomach.

The three start moving forward but I’m still frozen, trapped in this puzzling sensation in my stomach. It’s spreading around my body, making my legs and arms feel detached. I pick up another handful of sand and watch it slowly fall between the cracks in my hand once more. Something is painfully familiar about it. When I stand back up I look down to where Granger is making her way down the hill with the girl and Lupin. She stops, turning around and uses her hand to block her eyes from the sun.

“What are you doing?” she calls up at me, her voice carried up by the light breeze. It’s so warm here it feels like we are no longer in England. That thought alone triggers the memory. Granger pushes herself painfully back up the hill towards me, puffing and panting when she makes it the full way up the sand dune.

“Malfoy? What’s wrong? You look pale,” she laughs. “ I mean paler than usual.”

I can barely hear what she’s saying. I step around her and stare down at the house in the distance. I recognize the house. Wooden with a large front porch. I turn around and the sound of the ocean blast into my ears. Seagulls swooping low in the distance. The smell hits me as a sharp breeze whips through the coastline.

“What’s wrong? Have you been to Cornwall before or something like that?” she asks, innocently.

In a way, I have been here before. Or I was supposed to be here. In the future. With her.

I look at her puzzled, innocent expression, watching me eagerly. Lupin calls for us over his shoulder as they reach the house. She reaches her hand out and pulls on my hand.

“Something like that. Yeah.”


	22. The beach

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya, everyone!  
Sorry for the long delay on this chapter. I have been working on other projects and it's been hard to find motivation during these tough times. I hope everyone is doing okay and being safe!  
Please review and let me know what you think. Always love to hear from you   
Sorry for any mistakes in this I do use a basic editor but still a lot doesn't get picked up on.   
Much Love <3

**Draco’s Point of View**

When I walk into the house it feels full, like my entry alone has made the house pass the fine line of its capacity. Granger moves forward, pushing past Lupin. The Weasel and Potter don’t notice her at first until she flies into Potter’s arms, using her left arm to ring around Weasel's neck, dragging him into a hug.

I can see it all happening in front of me, but it feels extremely far away. I have been watching this story for years now. The story of the golden trio. I have watched them for as long as I have known them and nowhere in that story did I ever fit in. Something about standing in this slightly familiar house makes that notion ring truer than it ever has. There is merit too it now, it carries its own weight in my chest. Something about watching the way she looks at them seems to solidify my awareness of it all. I can push and pull and cry and beg if I pleased but I will never fit into this picture I see before me. Not really. The three of them seemed to be these puzzle pieces that just click, snap together like they were always meant too. The picture on the box is the same. What you see is what you get with them.

Lupin moves forward to wrap his arms around the three of them as the girl weasel slips under their arms into the centre of the hug, wrapping her arms around Potter. A fair-skinned girl with long blonde hair notices me, standing awkwardly by the door. She turns to a tall man and motions towards me. They whisper amongst themselves for a moment before the man calls to Potter.

“It’s okay,” Potter says, turning towards me. Granger keeps her arms tight around his neck for a moment before releasing. She turns to the man and towards me watching the wary exchange between the man and Potter.

“What do you mean?” the man asks. He pulls the girl towards him as if being near me might tarnish her fair skin. I fix the tail end of my coat for something to do with my hands.

“It’s okay Bill,” Potter says, more sternly this time.

The tension in the room is palpable. I can feel it itching at my skin.

“I’m just going to wait outside,” I say, turning towards the door. I can feel their eyes watching me as I make my way outside.

The sun is still heavy in the sky and I kick a few loose pebbles on the small walkway up to the house. I climb up the dune letting the breeze hit me, trying to clear away some of the tension that had taken place inside my chest. I hear the sound of the front door closing behind me and I sigh. The sound of footsteps carries up the hill.

“It’s fine, Granger. Go back inside,” I say as I feel her coming up behind me.

“Not Granger,” Potter responds, and I turn around to face him.

How many times in how many years have we stood like this, face to face? It feels incredibly different now. Too much time has passed for me to stand in front of him the way I used too back in school. Tall and arrogant and always so sure of myself. I am too tired now to wear that expression. I am too tired to believe I still have that in me. For many years I would have rather die than show any weakness in front of him. Something changes in his face and I think he can see the reluctance in me. We are both too old now to stand in front of one another as we used too.

I used to think that we were always men when we faced off. Men with ideas and motives just waiting for our bodies to catch up to our mindsets. But even now, we are still children. Tired children pretending to be men.

“About Bill..” he starts.

“Don’t worry about it. Not many people want me in their home, Potter. I don’t take it personally,” I say, cutting him off before he can start with some bullshit excuse.

An awkward beat passes between us as the seagulls fill the silence, squawking loudly as they dip down low towards the water ahead of us.

“You look different, Malfoy,” he comments.

“Better than you at least,” I say, taking in his tattered jeans. He scoffs a little turning towards the shoreline.

“I suppose you do,” he adds, and a little bit of the animosity leaves his voice. Another beat passes in which we both stand completely still, unsure of who is going to speak first.

“Look if you’re going to say something about Granger just leave it. I didn’t do it for you, okay,” I say, trying to get it out in the open before the conversation has to go on any longer than necessary.

“For old times sake I want to say there was a moment that night in the manor where I doubted whether or not you were going to help her,” he says.

I turn to him, blocking the sun out of my eyes with my hand.

“But there wasn’t,” he adds quickly when he notices my expression. “I could see it in your eyes that night. I saw it when you heard her screaming. You were just as scared as Ron and me. I could see it Malfoy. I can still see it now,” he says seriously.

“Potter where the fuck are you going with this?” I say, trying to brush off the serious turn the conversation has taken.

“Look Malfoy I’m not going to bullshit with you and say that I accept or even understand what is going on between you and Hermione. I mean never in a million years would I have thought this was a possibility. I thought that night in Hogwarts when you walked away with the Death Eaters that that would be the end of it all. I thought she had moved on. I mean she never mentioned you when we were together. She never spoke about it and I guess looking back now that says more about it than she ever could..”

“Potter,” I say raising my hands to stop him before he can start.

“Let me finish,” he interrupts casting his eyes up at me. I brush a nervous hand over the back of my neck.

“That year we spent out together was the worst I ever saw her. I’m not saying that was entirely your fault because even I’m not that selfish. But something was hurting her and hurting her badly. I’m telling you this because you must understand how bad she got. She wasn’t eating and she was barely sleeping. I would sit across from her and force her to eat until we nearly spat blood at each other. Some of the things we said to one another were so horrible that I doubt we’ll ever speak of them again.”

“Why are you telling me all of this?” I say, exhaling loudly. I kick a rock and step up on the embankment, looking down at him. Back towards the house, Granger opens the front door, stepping out awkwardly onto the porch. She lifts her hand to block the sun and watches us like a worried mother. Potter turns and notices her standing there watching us.

“I’m saying this because I’m worried this thing between you two is going to hurt her again. I can’t sit back and watch her fall apart again. I just can’t it was too hard the first time. I won’t do it again and I don’t think she would survive another year like the one we just had,” he warns as Granger starts taking a few steps towards us, unsure from this distance whether the conversation is going to turn south quickly.

“What do you want me to say, Potter?” I argue back. He shrugs his shoulder, waving off Granger who relaxes a little at the action.

“Honestly if I had a choice in it, I would say thank you for getting her out of there but kindly fuck off,” he says with a smirk. I roll my eyes at him.

“You don’t have a choice in it,” I say seriously. He rolls his eyes at me.

“I know that. I’m just worried about her Malfoy. You can understand that, right? That girl is my family. We may not share the same blood but she and Ron have been my family for as long as I can remember. I would do anything to keep her safe,” he says. He kicks the ground roughly and turns a shade of red with anger.

“Fuck Malfoy!” he shouts suddenly causing some of the seagulls that we’re feeding on the embarkment nearby to burst up from the ground.

“What?” I shout back at him, unsure. Granger starts moving quickly towards us.

“Why her? Why did you have to pick her? From what I heard back in school there were so many other girls you could have picked,” he says, the anger fully present in his voice. I slid back down the embankment towards him, kicking dirt up onto his already filthy jeans. I scoff in his face. Granger breaks into a run and I imagine from the angle she’s watching us it must look like we’re squaring up to one another.

“You think I picked her? Are you stupid? Why in the hell would I pick her if I had a choice!” I shout back in her face.

“My God Potter I thought maybe with you being the chosen one that might have given you some brains. Do you think if I had a choice, we would be having this fucking conversation right now?”

“Alright, back up,” Potter says pushing on my chest. I move away slightly just as Granger makes her way up the steep hill.

“Hey!” she shouts slipping herself into the small space between Potter and me. To my surprise she slips in with her back to Potter, her attention focused on me. But I don’t break eye contact with Potter as he steps back away from us and cast his eyes away.

“Harry go back inside,” Granger orders. Potter stares at her defeated for a moment before turning slowly on his heels to make his way back inside.

“Potter!” I shout when he’s walked a few feet away. He stops for a moment and turns slowly to stare over his shoulder at me. Granger puts her hands on my face and tries to pull my attention away but I stare straight ahead at him, ignoring her.

“Malfoy let’s go,” she murmurs, trying to pull me away.

Potter stands, waiting as Granger stares between us trying to read us.

“There was never a choice,” I say turning away and sliding down the sand dune towards the beach.

* * *

**Hermione’s Point of View**

I stare towards Harry as he waves me off with a quick hand motion. I watch as he turns and makes his way back to the house. I slid down the sand dune with a lot less grace than Malfoy, stumbling several times as I try to catch up to him.

“Wait!” I call ahead as he walks in a direct beeline towards the beach. He stops, swinging around quickly on his heels.

“You didn’t have to come out Granger. We weren’t going to tear each other’s heads off,” he scowls at me. I slow my pace a little take back by his anger.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he argues. I rub at my nose as the heavy wind rips through the beach.

“It looked like ye were fighting,” I argue back. Malfoy sighs and starts walking ahead. He stops when he gets to the water and stares out towards the horizon.

I stop just behind him in the large shadow he creates. I turn back and notice how small my shadow looks in comparison to his.

“Why are you angry?” I ask, most of my voice getting lost in the breeze. I feel so small when he’s like this. A wave of anger I can’t quite reach is stuck in him.

“I’m not angry Granger,” he argues.

“Then what’s wrong? What were you and Harry talking about before I came over?” I ask.

“Nothing, don’t worry about it,” he responds. I grab his hand and pull him around.

“Why are you acting like this? Don’t pull away from me like that. Are we not past that?” I shout, properly angry this time.

“Are we?” he asks, tilting his head towards me.

“What’s that suppose to mean?” I say, hurt. He rolls his eyes at me and pulls his hood up to shield some of the breeze. His fringe sticks straight up in the wind and if we weren’t arguing right now I would probably laugh.

“Look,” I start, prodding my finger into his chest with purpose. He pulls away and rubs at the spot slightly.

“Just cut the bullshit and say what’s wrong. I’m not doing this with you anymore. I’m not fighting with you!” I shout, stepping forward and poking at his chest again.

“Jesus okay! Just stop poking at me!” he shouts, rubbing his chest.

“Okay,” I say, lowering my hand.

“You can’t be surprised that there was a little tension between Potter and me. You can’t act surprised. It was bound to happen, and it’ll probably happen again. That’s just the way we are. I have no reason to like him and he has no reason to like me.”

“There is a reason,” I interject.

“No there’s not Granger don’t be stupid,” he answers.

“There’s me,” I imply. He stops, kicking the foot of his shoe against the sand.

“Look he said some shit and I said some shit. That’s what happened. It’s over with now, okay? Can’t we just drop it?” he asks.

“I want to know what ye talked about?” I ask, leaning forward, hopeful that he might answer.

“We talked about you,” he says.

“Oh,” I answer. That I had not expected. I thought they might have been arguing about some stupid rival stuff they had indulged in back in school. I didn’t imagine they were going to go straight to talking about me.

“What did Harry say?” I ask, looking back towards the house. From this view, I can only make out the side of the house, but I imagine someone is keeping an eye on us out the window.

“He said a lot of shit about what you were like during that year you were on the road,” he answers.

“Oh, I see,” I say, mentally wanting to strangle Harry for bringing it up.

“Yeah,” he answers.

“What are you thinking?” I ask, watching as he visibly slips away into his mind.

“Hey!” I say, pulling on his sleeve. He comes back slowly, turning his head away to the shore.

“I’m just thinking about everything,” he says quietly.

“Such as?”

“I’m just thinking back to Hogwarts and what it was like then. I remember thinking nothing could be harder. It’s funny to think about now. That was the easiest we ever had it. That year was the worst and then this now is even harder than that. It just feels like it’s getting harder with each day Granger. Is that not something you think about?”

“Hogwarts feels like a lifetime ago now,” I admit. “That year when I was on the road was probably the hardest year of my life for a multitude of reason. Now doesn’t even feel like a _time_. It feels like we’re just suspended in space, dangling. I _do_ think about it Malfoy,” I say.

“Everyday something or someone new brings up another reason to question this. To question us and every day I’m having the same conversation with myself about it,” he says.

“So, what? Harry says some shit and now you’re just out?” I say, trying to bite back the fear and anger. Malfoy runs a frustrated hand through his hair.

“That’s not what I’m saying!” he argues back. I fold my arms and wait, refusing to speak first.

“Fuck Granger!” he shouts, taking in my stubborn expression.

“No! Speak,” I start watching his almost pleading expression. “See you want me to pull the words out of your mouth, so you don’t have to feel vulnerable,” I say. I move towards him, laying my cold hand against his face.

“Everybody feels vulnerable Malfoy. So, you may as well just say whatever it is that you want to say because I’m not going anywhere until you do!”

He shoves his hands deep into his jacket pocket and stares towards the house as if they can hear our conversation from this distance. He turns his attention towards me, and I see the fire start to build behind his eyes. The anger seething from his pursed lips.

“Potter looked me dead in the fucking eyes and asked me why I picked you!” he starts, shouting so loud that I almost take a step back. But I keep my feet planted firmly on the ground. Let him speak, I think. Let him get it out, whatever it is.

“He looked into my eyes and asked me that! Like I actively chose this. How can anyone look at this situation and think that I would choose this? If I had a choice Granger I would be far away from here. Look at all the pain and hurt I’ve caused you throughout the years and he thinks that I chose it.”

“So, you don’t want this,” I say airily, trying to understand and summarise it. I squeeze my thumb down on my index finger hard until I feel the knuckle crack under the pressure. I squeeze and squeeze fighting back the tears. How stark the difference is between now and earlier this morning.

“I’m angry because he assumes that there was a choice,” he answers. “I’m angry that everyone thinks I chose to mess everything up for everyone,” he adds.

“I don’t understand,” I admit. A breeze passes close by my ear and I remember what Malfoy had said to Harry before he had walked away.

“There was never a choice for me Granger,” he says, repeating what had just come to my mind. “Everyone acts like I chose this but for me, this is all there ever was. In school, I fought against it and lived in this pretence that there was a choice if I made it so. But I was just putting off the inevitable for _me_,” he says. I crease my eyebrows together at him.

“What?” he asks, staring at me in confusion.

“Why did you say it like that? For _me_?” I ask, watching him intently as he wrings his hands together slowly.

“There was never a choice for me. But there can be for you,” he says, and I feel the weight of his words. I understand now that he’s said what was really bothering him. I can see it in his eyes. This was the moment of vulnerability he wanted to avoid and conceal behind anger. 

The wind whistles loudly around us, tearing through the beach and suddenly dropping as if some giant switch has been turned off. The beach is quiet with just the sound of the waves rolling towards us. I take a step towards him and slip my hands under his jackets and around his back, laying my head against his chest. I can feel his heart thumping loudly against my ear. Slowly and almost reluctantly I feel his arms circle around me, and the warmth is enough to make me want to fall asleep right here.

He leans his head down against mine, his lips close to my ears.

“Granger please hear what I’m trying to say,” he whispers. I take my ear from his chest and look up at him.

“I know what you’re trying to say but you’re wrong so I’m not going to indulge it,” I admit, and he laughs a little. A peal of quiet broken laughter.

“Aren’t you tired of it?” he asks seriously. “The looks from everyone. The questions. The whispers behind hands. The disbelief?”

“I am extremely tired of it. I am tired of everything but that doesn’t change anything for me. It doesn’t even scratch the surface Malfoy,” I admit. He stares at me with raised eyebrows.

“How can you be like that? I look at you and think that one day you’re going to turn to me and you’re going to hate me for all of this. You’re going to wake up and wish that you had left when given the chance,” he says.

“The future is something that I have stopped looking too for a while now. I try to live in the moment Malfoy. I kind of learnt that ideology on the road. The future can be a cruel temptress at times. But things always end up going in a different direction than you imagine,” I say.

He casts his eyes away and I follow trying to read them before he masks the emotion.

“Hey,” I call, pulling his attention back. I reach my arm up and curl his outgrown hair behind his ear. He leans into my touch almost like a wounded animal. When his eyes turn to mine, I see hurt in them.

“Can I tell you something though?” I ask, waiting for him to answer.

“Sure,” he says his voice small.

“If there had been a choice for me. I would still choose this,” I admit. There’s a flash of surprise in his eyes.

“Why? Granger, you could have anyone and anything you wanted. You’re that kind of person that people are just drawn to you. I don’t think you realise the kind of impact you have,” he says incredulously. When I look at him, I can see the reason clear as day. A feeling that built up slowly over time and eventually solidified in my chest and that’s where it resided to this day.

“I just feel different when you’re around,” I admit, unsure of how to express the feeling. “There’s so much noise all of the time and everyone is always on edge. But when I see you, I just feel better. I don’t know how to describe it, but everything isn’t as daunting or worrisome. You can bring out this stillness in me. This air of calmness I’ve never experienced with anyone else. I just feel like me again when you’re around. I feel like the old me,” I admit, pushing myself up onto my toes and hiding my face into his neck. He squeezes me tightly.

“Granger?”

“Can we just stop fighting now? I’m tired,” I plea with a sigh and he nods into my shoulder.

“Sure. We can stop,” he agrees. I lean back and pull his head down to mine. His lips feel ice-cold against mine, but they light a fire in the pit of my stomach. His arms pull me flush against his body. Our mouths move dangerously slow together and there’s something deeply sessional about it. I feel all the reasons again at that moment. All the different reasons I want him around however far-fetched he might find them. They’re enough for me.

He pulls back slightly and I feel his smile against my cheek. Malfoys head shoots up and I turn to see what he’s looking at. Back towards the house, I notice Ron walking back in the front door. The slam echoes across the beach. The seagulls squawk loudly against the abrupt sound.


End file.
